Let's end the month of September with this big coat button in the shape of a chocolate wheel with carved petals running around the border. 100% Bakelite from the 1930's. Next month (starting on Monday), I've got some exciting buttons lined up and I vow to make all of October an extra special exhibition of bloggable Bakelite galore. Wait and see...
-Sherbert McGee
By now it takes a lot to blow my socks off when it comes to Bakelite buttons, but every now and then I find something that truly surprises me. Enter this stunning quintet in the most electrifying shade of green that I've ever seen. I've only had these buttons for a short period of time, but I'm still oohing and aahing at their strange magic. Like pudgy gems or otherworldly seeds, these are tiny buttons for tiny baby fingers and my how they glow! A flush of cloudy swirls accentuates the mystique inside these luminous wonders and it's almost as if the Northern Lights have injected their famous gleam into this rare batch of roly-poly antiques. These buttons are made of Prystal Bakelite.
-Sherbert McGee
It's been a while since I posted a solid black button, so here we go. This licorice beauty commits every trick in the book of vintage charms. The Bakelite is carved, sculpted, spotted, slashed and contoured in deep folds. As impressive and attention-grabbing as this button is, I can't remember where I picked it up. Is it from Fargo or Fresno? Either way, this darkly arresting doozy has it all.
-Sherbert McGee
Hiya, hepcats! I couldn't believe my luck when these two very large buttons entered my collection earlier this year. Together, they handsomely illustrate the hip style of the Jazz Age with their smart colors and almost-but-not-quite argyle pattern. At first glance, these might seem like a couple of two-tone buttons. Look again. While both have chocolate sections, each button's yellow pieces are differing shades—with creamed corn pictured here (on the left sides) and butterscotch (on the right). In light of their snazzy features, I'm nuts about these three-tone trendsetters of 1925. Added to their charm, these buttons tested positive for Bakelite.
-Sherbert McGee
Here's a heavy toggle button that combines Bakelite with metal. The metal component is a hollow cylinder with the Bakelite sticking out of each end like tubed lipstick. The Bakelite is cherry red and I'm not sure on the metal, but if it's not a dense form of aluminum it might be solid steel. This button has an indomitable vibe, surely worn by the likes of Bebe Daniels or Colleen Moore (look them up).
Visit Doreen's online store
Click here: BUTTONS FROM THE ATTIC
-Sherbert McGee
Hello there, fall of 2017! Celebrating the start of a new season as well as the autumnal equinox, here's a lavishly sculpted button in moss Bakelite. The central feature on this button is a voluptuous leaf hovering over a textured abundance of tiny circles. When I first laid eyes on this button, I was knocked senseless. It is an exquisite example of carved Bakelite. Also pictured here is half of a Bakelite dress clip in a tone of bright avocado. My sister found this pretty scrap of vintage plastic at an antique store and sent it to me last year in hopes that it would find its way into a photo session. Alas, here it is as a prop for this mossy wowzer. Since we're officially in the fall season and also because I love leaves, I'm going to post a whole week of leaf-shaped buttons next month. Get set for a leafy week some time after the midpoint of October. I hereby vow to leaf you breathless!
-Sherbert McGee
Farewell summer of 2017! While today is the last day of the summer, I'm posting this epic blossom in bright orange juice Bakelite with merry carvings and petals flared. This mint-condition and sizable button sports all the glowing characteristics of OJ Bakelite: Its coloring is warm and classy. In a few spots some swirls are visible and overall this vintage keeper is teeming with summery flair.
-Sherbert McGee
This humongous maroon button owns my heart with its rounded triangular shape and glass-like feel. Seductively smooth, each corner of this brightly polished bombshell dips into a steep hollow. I love maroon Bakelite and this one is very maroon (and very Bakelite). Although its original frock is lost and gone forever, this dashing relic emanates an ageless magic. Perfectly perfect, from the 1920's.
-Sherbert McGee
Carved and sculpted and carved some more, this beautifully complex button earned its nickname—the wavy weirdo—from my friend Doreen. Shaved with zigzags and then etched with zigzags on top of those zigzags, the whole button is contoured like a mystifying gem. Made of apple juice Bakelite and brimming with light, this photo barely displays the undulating facets of this perplexing zinger.
Visit Doreen's online store
Click here: BUTTONS FROM THE ATTIC
-Sherbert McGee
Added to my collection earlier this summer, this enormous Bakelite button presents a rootbeer base with an apple juice dome that's carved from beneath in the shape of a six-pronged star. What really drew me to this button is the way the star appears to be hovering inside the Bakelite like a sealed work of art. Plunked here in the midday sun, the starry carving is noticeably faceted. circa 1929.
-Sherbert McGee
Back when I first got bitten by the Bakelite bug, one of the more collectible variations that I learned about is a type of hard-to-find plastic that's bears the nickname: Philadelphia Bakelite. So what is it? From what I've gathered, Philadelphia Bakelite is a specific color-combination of Bakelite brought together on the same item, be it a button or a bracelet. Not all connoisseurs and collectors agree on what these colors are, but generally the combination includes butterscotch and/or creamed corn, chocolate brown, green and either orange or bright cherry red. Some experts will also insist that a true Philadelphia-style button entails a requisite shape. The two buttons, which I've posted today, are both Philadelphia Bakelite with the green tone being the hardest to identify since it's a bit faded. Notice that the circular button is uniquely multicolored—boasting five distinct tones with a dash of creamed corn that is absent in the square-shaped button.
Here's a bit of history for those interested: Tracing the story of Philadelphia Bakelite back to its origins, in the 1960's a fluke discovery inside a Philadelphia warehouse brought a stockpile of old bracelets to light. The pristinely preserved bracelets were vintage Bakelite (in the aforementioned colors) going back to the 1930's or 40's. Collectors naturally went wild and the phrase "Philadelphia Bakelite" was born. The title has stuck to anything Bakelite that matches the required color combo. And as far as I know, that's the story of Philly-style Bakelite.
-Sherbert McGee
Oftentimes, collectors of Bakelite talk about the "carved" variety and here's a button that perfectly displays what is meant by carved Bakelite. In this case, the carvings go around the button circularly and then slash across the circles for a look that's highly diced and quite dramatic. It's this amount of sculpted detail that exemplifies how no two carved Bakelite buttons are exactly alike.
Visit Doreen's online store
Click here: BUTTONS FROM THE ATTIC
-Sherbert McGee
The bigger the better is my stance when it comes to buttons, but sometimes I buy small buttons if they sport a big personality. Case in point: these little guys are made of orange juice Bakelite with maroon rims—and it's this color combination that won me over. Even though these buttons only measure about 5/8 of an inch across, they sport a unique blend of cloudy orange and wine red. Made in the 1920's.
Visit Doreen's online store
Click here: BUTTONS FROM THE ATTIC
-Sherbert McGee
Etched at both ends with seven cavities, this creamed corn toggle has been daubed in varicolored paint. I've held onto this Bakelite button for about five years now in hopes of finding a match for the beginning of a set, but it would seem that this cream-tone cylinder is hard to come by. So I only have this one, but that's fine by me. When it comes to 90-year-old buttons, even one is a bonanza.
-Sherbert McGee
Another stunning find from my friend Doreen, here's a licorice button that's trussed in metallic wiring—possibly strands of brass. I love how the four lengths of wire divvy up the button into alternating sections of smooth Bakelite and textured patches that depict a "wormy" design. The artistic effect gives this voguish button a dash of 1920's flair that recalls the signature style of Elsa Schiaparelli.
Visit Doreen's online store
Click here: BUTTONS FROM THE ATTIC
-Sherbert McGee
I've said it before and I'll say it again: Nothing's redder than red Bakelite. Saturated with all the cherry urgency of a candied firetruck, red Bakelite delivers its brightness with a feverish potency that stuns the eye and "pops" with incredible flair. Case in point: this Bakelite button sports its hot hue with the lusty confidence of a freshly born tulip. What's my favorite color of Bakelite buttons? Hands down, it's the red ones every time.
-Sherbert McGee
Hold your horses! Last summer I got my hands on this dandy herd of buttons in rootbeer Bakelite. The brass escutcheons are fitted over the surfaces of each button and despite some tarnished spots, most of them are in pretty good condition. It's a mystery what type of clothing item these might've decorated once, but I see these buttons on the vest of a rootin'-tootin' cowboy circa 1925.
-Sherbert McGee
Yesterday's button had green hurricanes inside of it and here's one that contains a dust storm. We're on the cusp of the fall season and I've been saving this button for this time of year because there's an autumnal vibe to it. The make of the button is apple juice Bakelite, flecked with a gust of dusty leaves. It really does appear that a tiny shower of debris is blowing inside of this unusual find.
Visit Doreen's online store
Click here: BUTTONS FROM THE ATTIC
-Sherbert McGee
