But the Buttons!

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eL_7yaNPHncYYaPsAwAq6xbLP-IGRj2dkwRhOhM1XCnKn5tLPeOs0-KGM_lJTxlZWJJw0To36JiqnApOD9sygIdu93_F4DXxIs4flvvmIp-1SmpW2f81FH5Am7nsYOlMGeJ9dQeq3506/s1600-h/P7240002.2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242410197092336642" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eL_7yaNPHncYYaPsAwAq6xbLP-IGRj2dkwRhOhM1XCnKn5tLPeOs0-KGM_lJTxlZWJJw0To36JiqnApOD9sygIdu93_F4DXxIs4flvvmIp-1SmpW2f81FH5Am7nsYOlMGeJ9dQeq3506/s320/P7240002.2.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></a><br />What ever happened to buttons? The ones that came in colored groups, to sew down the front of each blouse and the back of each dress. Where have they gone? Oh, it's easy to pull a tee shirt on in the mornings, forget the fumbling of fingers to match up buttons.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6bYLNUlecZt34C5BeqtoqU4iuCQqs21ImDTpW-JuiuAphPfbpvOMbWBfUTqmVHC_zlDaFaALubev4gov1vhPucAKvHTqna2Z4xOXqTPDpmnjosLiIenzmnTUxOVcfbl4ZIw-EdxtXeg0D/s1600-h/P7240003.2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242410059575192162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6bYLNUlecZt34C5BeqtoqU4iuCQqs21ImDTpW-JuiuAphPfbpvOMbWBfUTqmVHC_zlDaFaALubev4gov1vhPucAKvHTqna2Z4xOXqTPDpmnjosLiIenzmnTUxOVcfbl4ZIw-EdxtXeg0D/s320/P7240003.2.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></a><br />But can't you just see how lovely buttons make a dress? Dancing all the way down the front to the hem where they leave a flirty opening. Alright, the buttons weren't easy, they fell off, pulled at the buttonholes and even ripped at the fabric. It was easy to move on, into stretchy knits that don't need a button to open up the fabric so it fits on more easily.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIaSjx4pTdMpbC-Tc7SRnck3Fgp0jccezBOKT2RFhIgRzNET9iCtI_rPz7f_PQhTyV3hR9LZRvbAgKZGtRm52y3zQYexjcoAm9jvxPWV-FLT9OjXcY1k_3Ku9nOzU1Rl7Dnl5j0-p3tsZ/s1600-h/P7240007.2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242409937607651490" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIaSjx4pTdMpbC-Tc7SRnck3Fgp0jccezBOKT2RFhIgRzNET9iCtI_rPz7f_PQhTyV3hR9LZRvbAgKZGtRm52y3zQYexjcoAm9jvxPWV-FLT9OjXcY1k_3Ku9nOzU1Rl7Dnl5j0-p3tsZ/s320/P7240007.2.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" /></a><br />But buttons make the lady and buttons made the gentleman.<br />Pearly ones from the mid-west rivers, now long gone factories and dried up river banks where once shells were gathered and punched into fantasies of carved pearliness. Then there were the gumdrop buttons, just jucy colors in plump round shapes: starbursts, sunrays and daisy petals, the rays of carved lines and grooves, something to finger during long sermons or boring concerts.

But the Buttons!

What ever happened to buttons? The ones that came in colored groups, to sew down the front of each blouse and the back of each dress. Wher...

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