B is for ... Buttons

It's not an obsession or anything ... but I kind of collect buttons.

Does it count as 'collecting' when you secretly pocket them from the pavement when no one is watching?

I gather that a button can be a different thing depending on which side of the Atlantic you live on. As far as I'm concerned, I'm talking about these little guys.

Don't ask me why I started collecting buttons: I can't remember there ever being a logical reason behind it, but like all collections (and Pringles) once you pop you just can't stop. You know what I mean.

I think (and I'm really not entirely sure), that I graduated from 'having a few extra buttons' to 'owning a button collection' at some point during university. This was mostly due to the fact that awareness of my fondness for buttons grew among friends and family, so that I would regularly (probably two or three times a week at my most buttony-affluent of times) hear,

"Oh Becky, I found some buttons for you."

Which would duly be followed by a "thank you" and an inspection of the newest recruitment to the collection.

Like most collections, my button hoard, is pretty useless. I don't do anything with the little blighters apart from keep them in a jar and look at them from time to time. Recently I've realised that this is a horribly pathetic life for my poor buttons and so have decided to endeavour to put them to good use by sewing them onto bags and cushions and other things beginning with 'p'.

But that's a whole different bloglet.