Years before "The Girl with the Pearl Earring," Jan Vermeer painted "The Little Street." The tranquil scene showed children at play and a woman seated in a doorway, sewing.

Through the centuries, other artists from Van Gogh to Mary Cassatt captured the image of a woman sitting quietly, needle in hand, on canvas, and it became the quintessential picture of domesticity.

After all, dainty items for a woman's trousseau, and later tiny layettes, were stitched by hand. Linens and handkerchiefs were embroidered, and seams were taken up and let out to accommodate growing children. A woman, with her basket full of darners, needle cases, thimbles and scissors, kept the family intact.

A woman's sewing basket, used for decorative handwork as well as the necessary chores of making and mending clothing, was not only a toolbox. It was her treasure chest. Nestled with spools of thread and thimbles were precious mementoes and sacred items, where she could see and touch them often.

When I was a young girl accompanying my grandparents to antique shows and flea markets, I was usually given a little bit of money to spend. Because they were inexpensive and I found them fascinating, I sometimes bought an old box or basket of sewing items.

I would sit down with my grandmother and explore the contents. She would explain how the odd-looking tools were used and tell me stories of sewing clothing and quilts from flour sacks. Or how during World War II, when women were asked to "Make and Mend for Victory," she used my grandfather's shirts to make summer dresses for my mother.

Sometimes, as I rummaged through the contents, I would find tiny unfinished projects, a crocheted baby cap or a bit of tatting. It wasn't uncommon to find a string of glass buttons, old photos and occasionally love letters.

Once I found a small jewel box that contained three tiny locks of hair, each tied with a faded ribbon. I thought it was interesting at the time, but now that I have precious baby curls among my own treasures, I find it even more poignant.

Times have changed and today a well-kept sewing basket isn't such a necessity. Women who sew or quilt may have drawers full of sewing items, but many of us count ourselves lucky if we have the right spool of thread to put a quick hem back into a skirt, or we can put our hands on the "spare" that came with the shirt or blazer that's suddenly a button short.

Now, practically every item that could be found in an old sewing basket has a following. Collectors eagerly seek everything from the lowly pincushion or darning egg to advertising thimbles and everything in between. But the most popular sewing collectible is the button.

Button collecting is not a new hobby. Young girls used to assemble strings of buttons, each with a sentimental meaning. In 1938 the National Button Society was formed, and the Washington State Button Society was incorporated in 1942.

Today, collectors specialize in uniform buttons, Bakelite or even glass buttons.

But even if you are not a collector, it's hard to resist the glass jars and cookie tins full of a lifetime of buttons that still show up at estate sales and flea markets.

So the next time you see a sewing basket, take a minute to examine it closely. It's possible that somewhere in the jumble of bobbins, pins and buttons, there is a memory or two.

FUSUBHEDButton expert to speak Local antique dealer, appraiser and button expert Julie Dearman, owner of Julie Buttons Antiques at 2907 N. Monroe, will give a presentation on collecting vintage and antique buttons at her shop on Monday from 6 to 8 p.m.

The gathering of "Button Buddies" will feature crafts using buttons as well as a 20 percent discount on all buttons, books and sewing notions in the store. Button lovers are encouraged to bring their favorite buttons for "show and tell."

Julie Buttons Antiques has more than 200 consigners with a large assortment of buttons and other sewing collectibles.

For more information, or to sign up for the evening's activities, call Julie at 324-2018.

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