Fun and spunky, here's a couple of mismatched buttons—Bakelite oldies—that look like they fell straight out of 1929. I'm reading a wonderful book about the history of Jazz Age and Depression-era jewelry, titled All That Glitters by Jody Shields (published in 1987/now out of print) and the author mentions buttons frequently in her expert coverage of flapper trends in both the USA and Europe. Here's a savvy quote from the book that very much belongs on this blog: "Bakelite plastic was the embodiment of the purest form of the modern spirit. The vivid beads, disks and rectangular slabs had no historical reference—they seemed to be crafted by some otherworldly hand." Great insights and so nicely put. Thanks, Jody! I enjoy discovering the shared zeal of another Bakelite admirer.
Note: The uppermost button in this photo resembles a button I posted last year, but this is a totally separate button. In fact, I thought this button was black until taking this picture. Set in the sunshine, it takes on a dark greenish-blue tinge. I strictly disallow button repeats on my blog, so please know that this is not a mistakenly re-pictured button. I just so happen to have two of these and they are not the same color, although quite similar in bright daylight.
-Sherbert McGee
What on Earth do we have here? These spacey freaks are made of rootbeer Bakelite and they are some of the weirdest buttons I've ever seen. Big round coat buttons, they're bursting with knobbly carbuncles as if infected by the rarely seen Jupiter flu. Notice the patina resting down in the spaces between the bumpy protrusions. I thought I'd have to dig some of that up, but the patina actually highlights the buttons nicely. (To view a button similar to these rootbeer goblins, scroll back to the button I featured on January 18, 2017. It's a greenish and less jagged variety of these anomalous finds). Likely going back to the 1930's, these are among my favorite rootbeers. Outrageous oddballs to the max!
-Sherbert McGee
A few days ago I took a picture of this button and wasn't happy with the result since the maroon coloring wasn't coming through—owing to some downcast weather. Today's a much brighter day and I took this photo at high noon for a satisfying shot of sun-kissed raspberry Bakelite. How neat are those patina-crammed grooves? This old berry harks back to the Roaring Twenties.
-Sherbert McGee
Something about this huge button spells out wintertime with its Bakelite background resembling an icy pond and the tarnished escutcheon giving off the vibes of a frozen treasure. Other flaws include a couple of scratched sections on the apple juice Bakelite and an aged spell on the leafy emblem. Sometimes old buttons have flaws commensurate with their age and this button is just that, c.1931.
-Sherbert McGee
Here's an especially handsome button in licorice and orange juice Bakelite. A large and chunky coat button, this debonair dude is square-shaped with rounded edges and polished to an impressively glass-like brilliance. I've had this fantastic button in my collection for years now and can't recall where I picked up such a spiffy find. An art deco relic of 1920's-1930's glamour, there are seventeen pieces of Bakelite that form this chic mass of stripes. The way the colors alternate sort of reminds me of piano keys—reflective of the jazzy time period this button comes from. Notice the swirls in the orange juice sections. The dude who paraded this on his threads must've been quite the stately popinjay.
-Sherbert McGee
This button popped out at me this morning when I was looking through my buttons and trying to decide which old baby to spotlight on today's blog post. As far as buttons go, this Bakelite beauty is that brightest of bright reds. It's the kind of red that couldn't be any redder. And like I always say: The redder the better. From the 1920's or possibly the early 30's, this fat red diamond is without decoration. Just delicious.
-Sherbert McGee
Let's face it. Brown isn't anybody's favorite color. And frankly, the color brown sort of represents one of the grossest things in existence. I'm talking about poop. But let's change the subject to Bakelite and suddenly the color brown takes on a whole new set of qualities. Today I'm posting one of my favorite buttons. It's Bakelite. And it's brown. Notice the golden patina resting in the carved leaves and the brilliant slopes that curve and dive up and down this chocolatey treasure (from the 1930's). Thanks to Bakelite, the color brown is truly rich, glamorous—and bloggable. I rest my case.
-Sherbert McGee
