Photography buffs are most likely to have shelves of obscure and rare cameras, ones they used in their craft and ones they came by later. They probably have a number of flashes in their collection, and they could also have accumulated a bunch of film canisters, lenses, and filters — and then they begin to realize just how far a well-stocked photography collection can grow. Photography is one of the collectibles that benefits from having an enormous amount of accessorization. Looking back at the last 150 years of photography, cameras were quite complex compared to most household goods at the time, and before easy access to photolabs a photographer had to process her own film. The large amount of equipment a photographer needed to produce their work not only make them an effective photographer, but it also gives a photo buff more ways to round out a collection. Here’s some of the extras I’ve run across in my experience that can compliment a camera collection:

Manuals: These small booklets were often tucked in the camera case and dragged out into the wilderness, to children’s backyard birthday parties, and streetside for 4th of July parades, so only copies that were either well cared for or forgotten at home survived to today. Both the camera manufacturers and outside professionals published full-length books in addition to the camera manuals to help would-be photographic artists hone their craft on their particular model of camera.

Film Rolls: Disposeable antiques are rare antiques, because few people thought to save it. Film was often delivered in a light-tight, protective packaging that was disposed of either when loading the camera or when the film was developed. Thrifty photographers often saved the rolls and re-loaded the film themselves. Early cameras had a wider variety of film sizes than today, so it may be more difficult to augment a rare camera display with examples of its film.

Dealer Samples: film, photopaper, and developing chemicals were produced by numerous companies, each vying for the attention of photographers and photo labs. To promote their products, distributors offered samples of their wares, such as the photo paper sample booklet above. I also have a small sample of color-photo touch-up paints that consist of a thin layers of dry pigment on a small swatch of paper. These can be difficult to find, other than by accident, because they were far less useful than many of the other items I’m listing, so many ended up in the trash.

Packaging: Especially during the self-developing period, the various chemicals and paper products came in small, manageable batches. Of course, when the product was used up, the box was tossed away. These boxes, tubes, and canisters ended up at the dump, but a few managed to survive to today.

Additional tools: Light-meters, enlargers, loupes, darkroom lights, studio lamps, and anything else that helped a photographer in the darkroom or on a photoshoot can make a basic collection into a extrordinary one.

The image above is of a special kit designed for colorizing black-and-white photos in the early 20th century — I had no idea such a thing existed, until I saw it at an auction today. Photography became a medium of the masses a hundred years ago, so many of these types of items can show up at most any auction and garage sale. A sharp eye helps in grabbing up these small and rare parts of photographic history.

Before the 1920s most costume jewelry was made to resemble “the real thing” for those who couldn’t afford jewelry made from costly gems and precious metals. The flappers changed all that. After years of deprivation and sacrifice experience during World War I these young women wanted to have fun. They rebelled against the hardships of wartime by cutting off their waist length tresses, raising their hemlines from the ankle to the knee and partying into the wee hours. When it came to jewelry, they eschewed tasteful gold jewelry for costume pieces in trendy shapes and wild colors.

Couturier and style icon Coco Chanel embraced the costume jewelry trend and encouraged women to use fun costume jewels to accessorize their outfits and express their personalities. Jewelry designers experimented more with the relatively inexpensive materials, and the resulting styles were fun and whimsical.

It was in this environment that plastic jewelry first reached widespread popularity. The plastics most commonly used were Lucite, celluloid and Bakelite. The chemical company Dupont introduced acrylic resin under the trade name Lucite in 1937. Lucite was a colorless plastic that could be carved and molded into different shapes and dyed various shades to create attractive jewelry choices. Lucite was popular throughout the 1940s and is still seen in costume jewelry today.

Celluloid was used in jewelry as early as the 1870s as an alternative to expensive materials like ivory and tortoiseshell. Unfortunately, celluloid had its disadvantages, a major one being that it contained nitric acid, which was very flammable. Jewelry made from celluloid was produced until after World War II, but the development of cheaper plastics (that didn’t catch fire!) caused jewelry makers to abandon the substance. Celluloid jewelry should be kept in a dry, airy place and kept from extreme heat or cold to keep the pieces from damage. Pieces that have already begun to crack and disintegrate can damage other celluloid pieces and should be kept away from them.

Bakelite was created in 1908 and was quickly adopted for use in everything from tabletops to bracelets. Like cellulose, Bakelite was abandoned for cheaper materials after the war, and today Bakelite items are highly sought by collectors.

Read more about Bakelite: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/36293/bakelite_collectible_plastic.html

Here’s a phone call I recieve at least once a summer:

“Hi, Derek: I’m at this rummage sale, and they’ve got this computer thing, I think it’s a video game…The guy has ‘make an offer’ on it, and says they’re collectible. What do you think it is worth?”

Collectors of all sorts tend to hate these calls. Expertise in any field will lead to tough-to-answer questions: “It says ‘California’ on the bottom,” isn’t necessarily enough to identify a $500 pottery piece from a $5 one, and neither is the maker enough to identify the value of a computer. Adding to the confusion are people who think, just because it’s old or because someone mentioned one on TV, that it deserves a $50 pricetag. Still, I’ve gotten pretty good at getting close. No collector wants to buy something for $50, then find them for $5 on eBay, and collectible dealers don’t want to lose money on buying an expensive machine that has no resale value. Here’s my methodology for evaluating computers, both for collecting or for reselling:

1. Does it have extras with it? Whether a video game or a computer, you want to make sure it’s well accessorized. The TV videogames invariably have controllers, a plug-in, and a cord to connect it to a TV. A computer should have a keyboard, mouse, and monitor, possibly a printer, scanner, modem, or other useful parts. The more parts, the more likely the machine will have everything available to make it usable.
2. Are there games/software? Modern computers don’t necessarily need to have disks along in order to test it, but it’s essential that a video console have at least one game. If the computer seems to have panels missing, exposing empty internal spaces, it may not have any software left.
3. Complete game consoles almost always have a buyer. Video gamers aren’t always looking for rarity: they simply want to play games. Nintendos and Segas, which were manufactured by the millions for a number of years, can often be bought at a rummage sale for a few dollars, and on the a collector may pay $10-$20 for it. A well-tested machine, with good controllers and everything to start playing immediately, will go higher. Due to the large number available, however, don’t expect to make hundreds off it. This even goes for older consoles like the Atari 2600 — so many exist that there’s not a rarity demand, so prices tend to stay low.
4. If it’s pre-1990s, and you don’t remember seeing a commercial for it, it’s probably valuable. Even bigger manufacturers, like Atari and Commodore, made computers and gaming systems that fell flat, didn’t sell well, and were quickly discontinued. If you’re surprised by an odd PC with the Atari logos all over, or a strange little computer with the Commodore logo on it, someone’s probably looking for it to complete their collection.
5. PCs have little to no value. This one is a little tough to gauge, because pre-1990s Amigas, Commodores, and Ataris can be quite valuable, while the Macs and PCs only have minimal value to tinkerers and repair shops for parts. The IBM-compatibles are the worst, because most are assembled from off-the-shelf parts and have no inherent rarity. 1985-1990 is a nebulous time for computers, when standardization of hardware was occuring, so fewer of the unique machines were being made. Collectors prefer machines made by individual manufacturers from original parts, not ‘clone’ machines from various makers.
6. Apples and “Classic Macs” have moderate value. Any pre-Mac Apple computer has collectible value, and the early all-in-one “Classic Macs” have a following. All fit into the nostalgia-collecting realm, where many adults today had one of these computers either at home or in school. The later the model, the less rare it is, but $20 for a “Classic Mac” isn’t an unreasonable appraisal, and older Apples (in working condition, with accessories) can be worth $100 or more.
7. $20 is the most to spend on an untested complete machine; $5 for an incomplete machine. Untested complete systems still have valuable components: power supplies, controllers, disk drives, software. Fragmented systems, such as one missing a controller or power supply, still have moderate value to people willing to take a risk on an untested piece just to get their system back up and running. If it’s a common machine, like a Nintendo or Classic Mac, you can’t expect it to be worth more than $20 in complete working condition, so no matter how clean or in nice shape it is an untested machine is still untested.
8. Anyone asking more than $10 at a rummage sale better have a good explanation why. If not, they really don’t know what it is, and cannot reliably tell you if the thing even works. The best question to ask is, “does this thing work?” with a confused look on your face. Really, it’s the best way to get an honest answer: someone in-the-know will have a long description of what the machine is and does, and a shrug or an “I don’t know” isn’t good enough.

#7 is probably the most important of the guidelines. If you’re interested enough in an old computer or video game console to consider its value, it must mean you want to play with it for a little while (don’t deny it!), and $10 is definitely cheap enough for an afternoon of entertainment. Following the rest of the rules will ensure it’s useable and entertainingly unique, and you’ll be less likely to be disappointed. Once you’ve gotten your Commodore or Atari, you can start watching rummage sales for new games, other accessories, or just know a little more about the systems next time you run across them. Vintage computers can be a lot of fun for tech-minded collectors; just make sure you don’t waste your money, and try not to call me every time you see something with cords attached to it.