I have a fascination with buttons. I think it's partly my Oma's fault. My first memories of my intimate introduction to these little treasures are of sitting on the floor in the living room at Oma's house while my mom had coffee. I was given a large glass jar, the kind that dill pickles used to come in. It was filled with buttons of all shapes and sizes. I think the idea was for me to thread the buttons onto string, thus improving concentration and dexterity in a toddler. However, I had different ideas.
Instead, I sorted the buttons. First, I sorted them by color. Then I sorted them by size. I divided them into shank and no-shank; I divided them into two holes versus four. Then I put them all back in the jar and started over.
Today I buy buttons for no reason other than they tickle something inside of me. Usually, crafters buy notions for an intended purpose. I have scores and scores of buttons that I have no idea what I will use them for. For now, they sit in a series of antique Ball blue glass jars on a shelf in my studio. For now, this is their sole purpose.
And that's okay by me.