hobbies

Sometimes I don’t think I’ve a very good collector. There. I’ve said it.

While I have sagging shelves, buckling record bins, cluttered horizontal surfaces, boxes of ephemera, and general piles of stuff, I sometimes get the feeling I’m not a real collector. But maybe I’m just feeling neurotic… I tell you what; I’ll list all my symptoms, and then you tell me if I’m a collector or not. (And if I’m not a collector, maybe you can tell me what I am?)

Thirteen Symptoms That May Or May Not Mean I Am A Collector

1. As I said, I have sagging shelves, buckling record bins, cluttered horizontal surfaces, boxes of ephemera, and general piles of stuff; some of it was purchased with specific intent (i.e. on a list or at least within an actual defined category).

2. As I can (and do!) throw out lids to Cool-Whip bowls, used tinfoil, broken rubber bands, coupons that have expired, etc., I no longer worry I am a hoarder.

3. I devote most all of my free time with my “collectibles.” I read the texts, listen to the audio, & spend hours, days (weeks?) obsessively researching objects, places & people connected to them — no matter how small & obscure the tangents.

4. And then I write about it. Exhibit A: Riding a toy train into Death Valley to meet Native Americans & interred Japanese Americans being photographed by Ansel Adams.)

5. I know of and understand collectible grading systems; but, like square roots, it is meaningless math to me. This is to say that I appreciate value in terms of conditions (and therefore completely believe in inspecting items & sellers’ honest descriptions) — but, for example, when some vintage magazine tickles my fancy, I don’t care so much about a few holes in the old paper. (If you’re looking for some grading guides, see this one for vintage magazines & this one for vinyl records.)

6. I take a deliciously perverse delight in not paying the price marked on stickers and tags; I also will pay a ridiculous amount for something I’ve never seen before, just so I can look at it longer. After negotiating a score (or either variety), I brag about it. Endlessly.

7. And then I’ll write about it.

8. I am perplexed, if not actually saddened, when I hear that a person does not collect anything.

9. I fall in love with the stories about things as much as the things themselves. This includes, but is not limited to, discovering something new (especially if it’s old), the passion a collector has for their collection (or the pursuit thereof), even typos and oddly phrased stories.

1951 Elephant Collection Article

Exhibit A: This short article from the March 1951 issue of Profitable Hobbies Magazine about Mrs. Alta White of San Lorenzo, California, who collects elephants which reads, “Today her whatnot is full of them.” A lady with a whatnot full of elephants?! In 1951 yet!

10. Often, I’m so charmed by the stories, I covet am inspired to start collecting those things myself.

Exhibit A: Once I stopped laughing over Alta’s article, I briefly considered collecting elephants simply for the joy of recalling “her whatnot full of elephants.” Further fuel to that fire was considering the delight in exclaiming with each elephant acquisition, “Another elephant to squeeze into my whatnot!” (Typing that, elephants remain a collecting possibility.)

11. Sometimes, I’m so oddly charmed & amused by these things, that I’ll nearly pee my pants laughing so hard.

12. And then I write about it.

13. Due to all of the above (plus the basics, such as spending time with family, eating, buying toilet paper because I’ve been eating, etc.), I spend virtually no time dusting my collectibles. (Plus, I believe that dust is a protective patina.)

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As promised on Thursday, more from the “Best Of” Better Homes & Gardens Creative Collection: 100 Ideas Flea Market Style 2009 magazine. Like I said before, I don’t usually buy new magazines like this. The reasons fall into two categories: “How I live,” and “What I know.”

I live with kids and pets, plus a typical “I don’t want to pussyfoot around the delicates” husband. So while I love to look at and admire the gorgeous photographs, I’m skeptical (at best) about the “place your glass and pottery on benches” and “display delicate knick-knacks around your marble edged bathtub” advice. Not that I actually own wooden benches or have such a bathtub, marble ledge or no; but I think you get my point about the dangers of wagging dog tails, curious cats, and less than careful family members.

Better Homes & Gardens Flea Market Style Tip 91

It’s all so pretty, but equally impractical in my house. Your mileage will likely vary. And if the pretty pictures take you on an emotional dream vacation to another life, where you can decorate without such worries, well then you’ll love this magazine.

Now for “What I know.” Not to be all stuck on myself, but I find that these magazines are full of articles and tips I already know. Hey, I’m clever. I hang with clever people. And I own a ton of vintage magazines which say pretty much the same things. (Because I’m clever, I know how to adapt the old ideas to modern ways &/or with modern materials; of course, being a poor bohemian type helps too.)

A few examples of things I already knew… Like how to use old architectural elements in funky “new” ways.

Tip 11: Old Porch Rail As Mail Organizer

Better Homes & Gardens Flea Market Style Tip 31

What the magazine fails to tell you is that old porch railings, newel posts, ginger breading, mantles, and other architectural elements — even antique table legs etc. — are priced higher than the sky. I’m not saying they aren’t worth every penny; but your eclectic summer cottage look is going to have beach-side property pricing. (Oh, and you’re going to need a lot of white paint; this publication lurves white paint!)

Among other things I already knew, using antique steamer trunks to store stuff. I personally wouldn’t do this outside because the metal fittings are going to rust and critters will nibble & infest the wooden parts… But if you have a more enclosed patio, perhaps. I do love this photo though because A) I’m a girl who loves to “nest” and put things away in drawers and stuff (ask hubby; I drive him nuts with this storage lust), and B) I get a hoot out of seeing the stored contents on display — only in magazines *wink*

Flea Market Style Garden Ideas

Also on that page, using “pretty fencing” as a trellis. I knew that too. Hubby and I have used antique metal baby crib parts and almost two years ago The Dean showed us all how to get even more creative and use parts from antique foot treadle sewing machine stands in your garden.

One of Better Homes & Gardens’ favorite ideas must have been #77, a “furniture remix” given two pages. It shows turning an antique workbench into a kitchen island — something else The Dean wrote about here at CQ nearly two years ago. (Not to be all “braggy” about Collectors’ Quest or The Dean, but his is bigger and better. *neener neener*)

Better Homes & Gardens Furniture Remix

Antique Workbench Becomes Kitsch Island

But Better Homes & Gardens proves with their 100 Ideas Flea Market Style 2009 that sometimes even I can still be surprised.

For example, tip #66 is a surprising “twist” on how to use old upholstery springs to display fluted glassware.

Recycle, Recoil (With Fear), Glassware Holder

I fear the photo may be misleading… They show just a section of what is supposed to be the coil springs from an old chair — holding (precariously to me) glassware. Just how big is this thing? And how/where do you set it? And won’t vibrations make the coils “spring” or at least move… Just enough to maybe drop the glassware? Maybe I’m a worry-wart. But it certainly is an idea I never thought of.

But I just love tip #49, which comes from bottle collector Micheal Breddin. Look at his cool idea to display his antique lavender bottles (once clear, but with age & the sunlight’s UV rays the manganese within the glass has transformed the glass into beautiful shades of purple). The bottles are inverted and placed over bamboo & rebar sticks stuck in plant beds for a stunning burst of color.

Stunning Way To Display Antique Bottles In The Garden

I suddenly want to collect bottles.

So while I don’t think I’ll be rushing out to get more issues of new home decorating magazines (it will dip drastically into my budget for vintage decorating magazines), I did enjoy “Best Of” Better Homes & Gardens Creative Collection: 100 Ideas Flea Market Style 2009. It did, after all, teach this jaded junk junkie a few new tricks. If you’re looking for inspiration (be it decorating or maybe even a new collection of bottles for your backyard garden), it’s totally worth the $5.99 cover price for the flip-through.

Better Homes & Gardens 100 Ideas Flea Market Style, 2009

I’ll confess, I don’t usually buy magazines like Better Homes & Gardens (at least not new ones!) because I always feel like, “A-duh, I know this already!” and, “As if my house could both look like that and be livable,” *snort* But sometimes, the pretty covers beckon…

In this case, it’s the 2009 “Best Of” Better Homes & Gardens Creative Collection: 100 Ideas Flea Market Style. I’ll admit, I’m am a girlie girl who can be suckered by the eclectic chic of shabby white painted furniture & eye-popping pastels. So sue me.

But what really made me bite and pay the $5.99 cover price at the grocery store was not the wait in line, not the fact that I could rationalize the purchase because “I’m a blogger”, but because of the intriguing, bright pink screaming, cover text: What’s Hot! Top 10 Collectibles.

I was so curious because for years I’ve watched and wondered about these lists — and the people who make them. Surely they are skewed by personal tastes and tailored data bases. I mean, if people could really predict “what’s hot” then we’d not only have a better economy but bypass all those talent shows, right?

TIAS, Kovels, eBay, they all proffer lists of “top search categories” and “top sales categories” — but come on, they are all different. And do you know why? Because of what each offers in terms of content. If you have more sales lists, articles, &/or appraisals for category X, Y & Z than other sites, well, that’s who is coming to you via searches — and what they’ll find to buy. Heck, just putting up those lists skews the searches because those words are all search engine fodder.

The fact is, no one knows what’s really hot in collectibles. The giant area of antiques and collectibles is as vast & diverse as we are — “we” being consumers, blog readers, people without the internet (the horror!)… people in general. And if we know anything about people we know that we are a fickle bunch. Out with the pet rocks, in with the Rubik’s cube; out with The Masters, in with the folk art. We even say we hate Barbie because she’s offensive to our feminist sensibilities and therefore bad for our daughters, but then we buy her by the millions. So what can these experts know about us and our future buying habits that we don’t know ourselves?

What's Hot In Collectibles?

Not much. At least not much past what the columnists, writers and editors like. In this case, the publication’s Top Ten list is as follows:

Copper Jewelry
Hens on Nests
Boxed Games
Bakelite Kitchen Utensils
Political Buttons
Notions
Vintage Home Magazines
Brass Candlesticks
Signature Quilts
Antique Footstools

Naturally, collectors of these items are as thrilled as I am to see vintage & retro games, political buttons, old sewing notions and vintage magazines on the list; we do so enjoy being “right” and “cool”. But those who do not see their passion presented will not just pout but point to their collecting groups, big auction prices, and whatever else they can to prove the list makers are waaay off the mark.

Fear not, dear collectors, these are only the publication’s fancies. Maybe being off the hot list means you’ll have less paddles raised at your next auction. And perhaps such articles will entice new collectors into our hobby. We do so love the company.

So while the question of just what is hot in collecting really has no definitive answer, one thing is for certain: We will continue to collect, hoard, decorate, display and buy, buy, buy.

Even publications we know we don’t need.

Because we have to. We’re collectors.

Our tastes may change — our pockets may only contain change — but the pursuit of our hobby will not change. Unless it’s to become more enthralled and obsessed.

Come back on Sunday, when I’ll share more of the magazine’s insights and insides!

Many collectors have emotional reactions to — and meaningful interactions with — objects. We collectors “get” that objects are more than just themselves, more than symbols, and certainly more than a pile of materialistic goods. At a deeper level, we collectors react to items — those we own, those we seek, as well as those we know may only visit, like those in museums. As I mentioned last week, some scholars call these kind of experiences “numinous”.

I believe that we collectors have numinous experiences — or at least something very close to it — with our collectibles. I think that’s the thing we have trouble articulating, the thing we collectors would call the personal and emotional values which motivate us to hunt & gather our objects, that thing we mean when we say our collectibles are “priceless.” I think numinosity is that intrinsic value we defend while some discuss a lack of inherent or economic values. Numinous experiences are the difference between our tomato/tomatoe views on collectibles: They monetarily “invest in” and we are spiritually “invested in.” We believe, seek, have faith — and when we see it? By gawd we know it!

Call me crazy for comparing collecting to a spiritual experience (I’ve been called worse for less), but what else can you call that mesmerizing combination of knowing and joy — that peace which comes from standing in front of an object?

Plus, if I call it a religion, you can’t persecute me.

Happy Holidays From Clara Bow

And even if a collector’s reaction to his or her collection isn’t technically numinous (but I remind you, you don’t get to select my faith!), there’s a certain je ne sais quoi to collecting. I dig clean– but used — lady’s underwear (that’s “vintage lingerie” to me) and you still play with dolls (OK, you call them “action figures“), and why we each do that is completely unique to each of us. The “what” and “why” are our individual holy grails & pilgrimage, so to speak. What we collect has an “it” factor to us, but not everyone appreciates it like it’s Clara Bow and the year is 1927.

Such a pity, really.

But I suppose if you’ve never stood before, touched or held something inanimate and had such an experience, it sounds (and looks) rather kooky. And truth be told, it is a difficult thing to explain — like deja vu, you know what it is, but how do you explain it to someone who claims they’ve never felt it? Poorly.

And like explaining your god to someone who’s never heard of him, you probably only seem crazier than when you began.

But the reason I mention all this is not only to comfort the rest of you misunderstood, under-appreciated nut-jobs I’m proud to associate with — or even to start a cult of collectors (though the idea is tempting). I mention this because it’s that time of year when people (most of whom are without numinous experience) play Nostradamus and try predicting the hot collectibles of the future.

If we don’t know what the “it” factor is, if we don’t experience the same pull or have the same holy grails, if we don’t all know our numismatists from our numinosity, how can we pretend to predict what’s going to have “it”?

I’d love to be able to say that I can predict what people will be moved by — be it the next Big Collectible or the It Girl that will set the world on fire (figuratively, I hope).

But really, that’s kind of like me telling you that you should collect glass Coke bottles to find yer own Nirvana.

If that’s true, the gods certainly must be crazy.

Collectors are often accused of being a materialistic lot; but as collections are not just made up of objects, how can that be?

Nearly two years ago I wrote how, “Somewhere in time this object ceased to be just an object but became a symbol of something more, something larger than just itself.” Not long after, I talked about collections in context. But at a very simple level, a collection is a set of memories, on display and ready to be shared.

Collections may start with an heirloom, something personal from your past, a thing “just snapped-up” in an impulse — but along the way they transform from a set of objects. They represent more than spoils of your hunting, but the path you took. Collections document your own personal journey.

Old Stuffed Toys

My little accumulation of ratty-old-cuddlies didn’t begin with buying anything. It began with friends from my childhood, like “Tigger” shown in this photo.

“Tigger” is a sawdust stuffed tiger. He’s faded, some of his fur is worn away with love, and he’s been sewn-up several times at the seam along his back. Even if he was a Steiff, he’d likely have no “value” due to his condition.

But to me, every bald patch, every stitch, has a story.

That larger patch at the back is evidence of 8 year-old-me chewing gum in bed — I had to cut the grape-yuck out of him in the morning so my folks wouldn’t know. Those multi-colored stitches down his back are the proof of the improvement of my sewing skills; large, childish stitches in black at the bottom, pinkish more uniform threads in the middle, and tight tan stitches at the top.

So when I spotted “Big Toe Joe” my delight lay not completely in his original creation, nor did I view his missing eyes and ratty hair as desecration; I saw in him what others might miss in “Tigger” — all the spots where the stories lay. The same is true for “Jocko” the one-eared faceless monkey. There are stories in the wear & tear of these childhood cuddlies. They’d been saved for years due to love and I just had to honor that, continue their care, even if I don’t know all their stories. My collection is more than just old stuffed animals; it documents my path to save what I can of abandoned childhood memories.

Another collection which has its roots in my childhood is my “ancient Egyptian stuff” collection.

Just One Shelf Of My "Ancient Egyptian" Chotchkes

It began with those early forays to the library. I somehow stumbled into books about ancient Egypt, likely either from my love of Arabian horses, my passion of learning how to belly dance alone in my room, or a hot & heavy pursuit of mythology; take your pick. In any case I was instantly was smitten with ancient Egypt.

I began to get every Egyptian chotchke I could, no matter how obscurely it was connected. Family and friends have helped through the years, giving things with an excited & hopeful, “You don’t have this yet, do you?” I’ve amassed scarabs, papyrus, wooden and glass hippos, tacky tin mummies and boxes, jewelry old & new, plaster museum reproductions, African candle holders, handmade things with Egyptian motifs — and of course books.

At first my books were those heavily illustrated Time/Life numbers grabbed-for-cheap at flea markets and garage sales. As my fetish continued, including some study in college, family & friends continued to enable me by gifting me lush tomes full of photos of pharaoh tombs. But eventually I graduated to works which focused on the written word, even (when I can afford it) rare works by archaeologists either forgotten or mentioned in the footnotes of others.

When I look at my “Egyptian stuff” I don’t just see a collection of objects on a theme; I see my growth from dreamy romantic child to history lover, from history lover to history student, from student to independent researcher. And I see in all the items gifted to me, the support and love of family and friends.

These displays of my personal growth, of my values, aren’t “just things”. They are as important as snapshots. They are the visual cues to oral stories — if only someone would listen.

How, then, can collecting be seen as just a materialistic act?