When I was 12, I stumbled across some moth-eaten cavalry uniforms in my grandfather’s attic. They were buried under layers of dust and cobwebs—almost forgotten. Naturally, my curious 12-year-old self couldn’t resist taking a closer look. What caught my eye were the metal buttons. I thought, "He obviously doesn’t want or need them anymore," so I carefully cut them off, braving the dust and the spiders in the process.
By 19, those buttons had found their way onto a winter coat I had. Over the years, those same buttons have been moved from jacket to jacket, each one a little more worn but full of memories. Today, they’re on my wool coat—a constant reminder of where they’ve been and the story they carry, one that stretches back to the 1940s with my family.
The vintage W. Schaerer buttons you see above are still waiting for their next chapter. Unused and forgotten in some old cellar until now, they’re about to be woven into something new adding their own history to my work and continuing the cycle of stories.
