You’ve seen my collection of security envelope patterns, and my found cards collection. Now, behold my collection of novelty paperclips. Look how cute!!!
The dachshund, the flamingo, and the teeny tiny clip with the adorable little smiling face (the one both arrows are pointing toward) are my favorites.
I’m sorry to say I don’t have sources to link. Many of them came in kits from a line of scrapbooking products that no longer exists (RIP), and the others have been in my collection for so long that I don’t remember where they came from. I’m sorry, too, for the photo quality. We’ve officially entered the season of unpredictable lighting, and I no longer have a proper lighting setup. iPhone photos and some adjusting of brightness, contrast, saturation, and/or shadows will have to do for the next several months.
Not pictured: A giant hand-shaped paperclip that I forgot to photograph because I actively use it to hold open my small weekly calendar and therefore it’s not stored with the rest of the collection. Oops! It looks exactly like this one (I bought mine a few years ago from a local store I love (Cargo) and have no clue how much I paid for it). (This is the only paperclip in the collection that I actively use. The others sit in a cute dish on my desk for my viewing pleasure.)
By the grace of whatever powers that be, I was blessed with a coveted spot in the Spring 2026 security envelope pattern swap, a twice-yearly international snail-mail event for nerds hosted by the Office of Collecting & Design. How it works: each participant receives five names and addresses to send at least five different patterns measuring at least 2 inches square to.
Thrilled as I was to make the cut, I was also stressed the hell out!! I wanted to send samples of less common patterns since most people already have the more common patterns in their collection, and also I didn’t want to cut up (ruin!!) any of my envelopes, an idea that physically pains me. A conundrum. Ultimately, as I flipped through my binder of envelopes, I considered only those patterns that I had at least two envelopes of, so that at least one of each pattern would remain in my collection intact. To the five addresses I received, I sent 2-inch-by-2-inch samples of six different patterns:
On account of the autism, I keep track of where each envelope in my collection comes from (and the date I receive it). I think it’s fun to see which patterns different businesses, organizations, and industries tend to use (the most visually interesting patterns in my collection come from mail sent by government agencies). For the curious, the patterns I sent came from (from left to right): OHSU, Tricare, the VA, the VA, USAA, and USAA.
To date, I’ve received five patterns each from four different people:
Of the 20 samples I received, 10 are new to my collection, and nine of those 10 are patterns I’d not seen before, either in the wild or online.
I loved seeing that orange pattern and the branded ones—so few of the security envelopes I encounter are branded, or are a color other than black, grey, or blue.
It does bother me a bit to have only a small sample of these patterns and not entire envelopes, and also I’m very grateful (1) that sending full envelopes isn’t a requirement to participate because I wouldn’t be able to part with five entire envelopes of five (or more) patterns, and (2) to have been made the cut for this iteration’s swap and to have received each of these patterns. I had a lot of fun participating and hope to snag a spot in at least one more future swap.
Whenever I visit a thrift store, antique shop, or other secondhand marketplace, I always (always!) search every (every!) nook and cranny for pinback buttons. I love them so much. In the early years of the pandemic, I found the best buttons at Monticello. There was a vendor who had a suitcase and glass display case full of vintage ones, and I would spend as long as it took to sift through every single button each time I visited.
I officially began my collection for about $10 in September 2021 with a few buttons, all carefully selected from the suitcase pictured above.
My collection is mostly thrifted, slowish-growing, and still relatively small—only (“only”) 49 buttons. This is partly because, to date, I’ve bought only buttons that I find in person (I’m a tactile shopper) and the vendor who sold the best buttons—and had the largest offering—is no longer selling (sad!). It’s also partly because I venture out specifically with the intent to find new buttons only once or twice a year. As much as I enjoy long and expensive walks through any varietal of secondhand marketplace, they’re social and sensory overload for my brain (and are not in this economy compatible with my bank account), so I don’t visit often.
Yes, being both a tactile shopper and easily overwhelmed by shopping is a frustrating combination. Such is my autistic life. And anyway, visiting such marketplaces for such a specific purpose so infrequently works out fine because the selection of buttons at any one place doesn’t change often.
During The Great Pinback Button Blitz of 2026 last week, which nearly doubled my collection overnight (well, over two nights), I also visited Hollywood Vintage, House of Vintage, and Really Good Stuff, all without luck this time. So it goes. The thrill of the hunt is a big part of the draw for me, even as the sensory and social experiences of shopping are absolutely not.
Also in my collection are two buttons I didn’t thrift. I acquired them before I began intentionally collecting them: a “KEEP ABORTION LEGAL” button that I received at a rally/protest I attended at the Supreme Court in 2019, and a souvenir button from the “Spirited Republic: Alcohol in America” exhibition at the National Archives Museum in 2016 (I miss DC so bad!!!).
Another reason I love pinback buttons: they make fun magnets. Years before I began collecting vintage ones, I began buying new ones specifically to turn into magnets. All you need is a pair of pliers to remove the wire fastening mechanism, strong glue, and small magnets. I use this glue and these magnets. The magnets are pretty strong, each holding several (literally seven) sheets of (8.5″ x 11″) paper without slippage or slow sliding.
Other magnets in the above photo that I could find links for:
The “i’m autistic please leave me alone” sticker was a freebie included in an order from this shop.
For now, my vintage buttons live in a thrifted bowl on one of my bookshelves. I’d like to eventually display them on a hanging pin organizer—something like this, or this—that I make myself. Until then, I leave you with these fun stamps commemorating the pinback button, the pinback button museum (so fun), and the only button I’ve come across that I really wanted to buy and, sadly, wasn’t for sale.
Do y’all wanna see one of the most autistic things about me? Behold, my collection of security envelope patterns.
About two years ago, I saw a photo from a fellow memorykeeper who’d used a security envelope pattern as the cover page for a mini album (I can’t find any photos of the project to link to, sorry) and thought, What a creative idea! With the unfulfilled intention of using them in my own memorykeeping projects, I’ve been collecting security envelopes ever since.
It’s a slow-going process. I don’t receive much mail that arrives in a security envelope, and the mail that I do is mostly from the same few places, which use mostly the same few patterns. Two years in, I have only about 40 patterns in my collection.
(This number is lower if you don’t count different colors, scales, and weights of the same pattern as distinct patterns. For example, I count the three “brick” patterns in the photo below (second, third, and fifth from the right) as three distinct patterns; while the scale of each is the same, the color and weight are not. Similarly, I count the fourth pattern from the right in the photo above and the fourth pattern from the right in the photo below as two distinct patterns; while the scale and color of both are the same, the weight is not.)
Most of the envelopes in my collection are from mail I’ve received directly. Some of them are from mail other people have received and then—knowing I collect them—mailed to me. Two of them, I found on the ground while out walking.
Ever the amateur archivist, in an effort to build a record of circulation for each pattern (or to contribute to an existing one that I don’t know about), I keep track of when I receive or find each envelope and, when known, who sent it.
Slow-going as it is, the passive collecting of these envelopes has been one of my all-time favorite projects. Every time mail arrives, I’m excited to see if I’ve been blessed with a new pattern; when I am, it feels like Christmas morning.
Two years in, I have two main takeaways: (1) many of the patterns in my collection that I find most interesting are printed on envelopes sent by state or federal government entities, and (2) there is a serious and worrisome decline in the appreciation and prioritization of ephemeral art and design that is very obvious when looking through larger collections that include envelopes from earlier decades. You just don’t see branded (or colorful) patterns very often anymore. When I tell you I almost completely lost my shit when this branded Capital One security envelope arrived a few weeks ago. You would’ve thought I was an actual child on actual Christmas morning pulling a rare Pokemon card.
Despite my original intention, I’ve not yet done a damn thing with these envelopes. I do have a handful of project ideas. Before I attempt any of those ideas, I’m going to scan each deconstructed envelope.
Want to donate your security envelopes to my collection? Who am I to refuse. Please get in touch (kelseyetcetera @ gmail dot com).
