W
HO in God’s name would collect old buttonhooks? A ridiculous pastime, the things are basically just a length of metal with a hook at one end. All they did was fasten boots and shoes that had buttons too small for fingers.
An exhibition at Art & Antiques for Everyone later this month is out to change your mind.
There are so many still kicking about that they’re also ridiculously cheap. If there aren’t a couple lying in a drawer in granny’s dressing table, then they can be found in any junk shop, fleamarket or antiques fair for a few pounds apiece.
Buy one and you’re hooked and like us, you’ll end up with a box of the things, all of which are neither use – when was the last time you buttoned your shoes? – nor ornament. The answer is to specialise and collect only those that fit a theme or personal interest.
The joy of buttonhooks is the countless number of versions. Each is a product of Victorian and Edwardian inventiveness.
There are buttonhooks carrying advertising; buttonhooks with handles designed as animals; those with musical or sporting motifs; commemorative handles such as those made for Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Handles with an alternative use such as shoehorns are common, so too the bottle opener, penknife, corkscrew or mini pair of scissors. There are buttonhooks made in India, or Japan, or America; or perhaps elegant silver buttonhooks decorated with gemstones and enamels by wellknown makers which are rare and expensive.
Another variation is the folding buttonhook, made in both steel and silver and in varying sizes. In general terms, the smaller they are, the more expensive the price.
Be ruthless and stick to your chosen theme. Buy the best you can afford and you’ll create a collection with a lasting fascination. Spend £100 on a real prize that will bring a lifetime of pleasure, or fill a suitcase with pieces of metal with a hook at one end and a handle at their other. No contest.
The earliest known reference to the buttonhook was in 1611 when it was called a “Boutonneur: A Buttoner; or an instrument wherewith buttons are pulled through their o’er-strait holes.” Although buttonhooks were in existence through the 17th and 18th centuries among the upper classes, examples dating from before the industrial revolution are rare today.
Unless they were made of a fine material such as gold or silver, many have been discarded, although there are still a few examples of early to mid 19th century wooden button- Dogs’ head handled examples hooks with elaborate handles.
The steel buttonhook, generally the size of a table fork, came into its own in the 1880s with the new fashion for the feminine high-buttoned boot made from stiff leather and fastened by a row of tiny buttons to show off the shape of the ankle. Buttonhooks of a foot or THERE will be more buttonhooks than usual at the summer Art and Antiques for Everyone fair at the NEC, Birmingham, with a display by The Buttonhook Society showing hundreds of the quirky collectables. Leading member Penny Savill, pictured below, part of whose collection is illustrated, is a wildlife enthusiast who decided to concentrate on hooks decorated with birds and animals. Talks will be given daily on a variety of topics including Judith Above: Four novelty buttonhooks Left: Saucy ladies’ legs versions Right: An array of coloured enamelled handles more in length, h, sometimes unkindly called “fat lady hooks”, allowed the user to fasten her boots without bending, often not easy with tight-laced corsets, while tiny examples no longer than your little finger were meant to be carried in a purse or Musical themed Miller, one of the world’s leading experts in antiques and collecting and known worldwide for the Millers Guide books; Will Farmer, a dealer, writer and BBC Antiques Roadshow expert in ceramics, glass and decorative arts and on the history of buttonhooks by society chairman Paul Moorehead. The event runs from July 19-22.Admission is £16, including parking, but readers will receive two tickets for the price of one on production of a copy of this newspaper. waistcoat pocket on the off chance that it might come in handy. Smaller types, called “glovehooks”, were used on dresses, sleeves and men’s stiff collars, many having a small ring on the handle end intended to allow a lady to attach the item to her chatelaine at her belt or necklace, while a man might fasten the hook to a watch chain. Silver buttonhooks are found in a number of patterns, many with handles decorated with repoussé floral patterns. Most were assayed (tested for silver quality) in Birmingham, and others in London, Sheffield, and Chester and usually include their makers’ marks. The other joy of such pieces is that they can be dated precisely by their compulsory date letter marks, which can be checked against hallmark directories. Well-known and prolific British makers included Adie & Lovekin, Levi & Salaman, Goldsmiths & Silversmiths Co, and Crisford & Norris. William Comyns was a notable British designer from the Victorian era, while Liberty & Co. produced distinctive stylised Art Nouveau buttonhook designs. A raft of other materials was also used, including mother-of-pearl, antler, ivory, jet, bone, wood, tortoiseshell and abalone shell, often incorporating cornelian, amethyst, moss agate, onyx and other semiprecious stones. Personal favourites are those made from the salvaged metal debris of the First World War, so-called “trench art”, made by soldiers and either sold as souvenirs of given as gifts to family and friends. Dated examples, which often include names of famous battles, sell for a premium. Once hooked there’s no turning back. But remember: pick a specific type or theme, stick to it rigidly and create a collection to be proud of.