Check Out Czech Glass Buttons
The precious gems of the button world
Rooting through the sewing paraphernalia my aunt Dorothy left me when she died, I found eleven buttons clustered on a turquoise thread. Like other things in life, at first, I underestimated them. Eleven black plastic buttons. Then I looked closer. No, they were glass, not plastic, and garnet red, not black. Finely detailed in a floral geometric pattern, traces of a gold wash still glittered. One of the original dozen never made it through the years or had been purloined to another purpose.
Deep in the crevices, nooks, and crannies of my brain I found and dredged up a vision from middle school. Mr. Craycraft, my teacher, and mentor from seventh through twelfth grade, stood at the blackboard once again, grinning like Alice’s cat, and swinging a yardstick to etch his knowledge into our young minds. Along with the mental picture of Dean Craycraft in a tan corduroy three-piece suit hollering “People…people…people” to get our hormone-drenched attention was a factoid: Czechoslovakia — a country since disbanded into the Czech Republic and Slovakia — was envied by the Nazis for their juicy resources. One of their exports was glass, made from these resources. Sometimes education works.
Dorothy’s bequest was, indeed, a cache of vintage Czechoslovakian buttons, most likely shipped to the U.S. in the 1920s or ‘30s. They had made their way across the Atlantic to my great-grandmother Rosalie, or maybe her mother Caroline, in Ohio and from her to Dorothy and then, to me.
I decided to explore Czech glass buttons. Bohemia, the largest historic region of the Czech Republic, became famous for its high-quality glass back in the 1200s. The Bohemian glass was sturdy enough to be engraved.
Button making began in the late 1700s with the invention of metal button molds. First, hard steel “kernels” were carved with the desired design. These were pressed upon softer metal to make a reverse image metal mold of the button. The mold was filled using tongs and rods of glass. When cool, the button was trimmed (like the excess pastry dough on a pie), and polished. Only one button was made at a time.
Czech glass button production and exportation exploded in the last half of the nineteenth century. The fancy buttons were just the thing to satisfy the Victorians’ lust for ornate embellishment. Reverse painting, enamel paint, 24 carat gold gilt, and silver wash were all hand applied to the small disks. Tiffany-like iridescence added shimmer. Vaseline glass, carnival glass, colored or clear, the Czech button makers thirst for variety was unmatched. The subject matter ranged from miniature studies of beetles to graceful flowers and pure geometry. There was a suitable fastener for any mutton-legged silk dress or lacy cotton lawn blouse.
Even tiny buttons were not free of shifts in politics and power. Czechoslovakia was formed in 1918, transformed from one type of government to another, borders were moved, then it was broken up into the Czech Republic and Slovakia in 1992. Button output dropped around World War I, the briefly rebounded in the 1920s and 1930s. By 2017, only two button pressing houses survived.
Czech glass buttons, reflecting their jewel-like quality, are popular with artisan jewelry makers. They fashioned them into earrings, pendants, watch bands, and bracelets in styles ranging from the formal to the casual. The buttons are also tapped by knitters and crocheters to add a special touch to their work.
Determination of the exact age of a button is often futile. The molds are metal and since, at one time, button making was huge in Czechoslovakia, old molds are readily available to use today to make buttons often indistinguishable from those of the past.
There is at least one American artisan who owns antique molds which they have a Czech company use to make buttons. The artisan then hand paints them and is very open about their process.
For the purists, hints as to age do exist. The most obvious is the typical signs of age (often on the back of the button). Shank styles changed over time. Initially, metal posts and shanks were sunk into the glass button while it was still hot and molten. The shape and style of these metal fittings changed and can be used at times to guess at the decade of manufacture. In the twentieth century, self (glass) shanks with thread channels came into existence.
Czech glass buttons made today are still handcrafted one-by-one. One article mentions watching this done a few years ago.in the Czech Republic and noted a 1908-foot press was used. Given the labor involved in making these glass buttons — labor unchanged over the centuries — it probably makes sense to ignore age and go for what pleases. Isn’t that what we all would like to see more of?
The buttons are readily available through online sites such as Etsy, eBay, and bead retailers. Most are not too expensive. With the disruption of wars, inventory was created in the past and went unsold. This “new old stock” can also be found, often in sets still on the original vintage cards — a piece of ephemera from days gone by.
Enthusiasts who make their way to Prague or elsewhere in the Czech Republic can immerse themselves in the glittering glass world and fill their days touring glass factories, visiting glass museums, and shopping for glass and crystal.
A wonderful find and another glimpse into tge past.