My Collective Soul
When I was a little kid, I collected little spoons. You’ve probably seen them. You usually find them in souvenir stores and in the display cabinets at your grandma’s house. They serve no purpose whatsoever, but have little decorations on the handles depicting where I picked them up. An alligator for Florida, the Capitol for Washington DC, a race car for Indianapolis. They were a reminder of all of the places that we traveled, and where people who loved me traveled. My collection of dusty spoons went bye bye long ago. I have a vague memory of finding them, still in their little plastic boxes, stacked in a box and thinking they were lame and tacky. Based on that, I think I was probably a teenager. My angsty teenager self wanted nothing to do with them and threw them away. They gave me a lot of good memories. Oh, teenage, me. I wish I had known to press pause on that “this is so uncool” moment until later in my life when I wanted those back. I’m sad that I don’t have those now.
My brother, Paul, as a grown adult, fostered a disturbingly large collection of Beanie Babies. He had tag protectors and everything. His prized possession was a Princess Diana Beanie Baby for which he paid an ungodly amount. His plan was to hold on to those as the value rose and give them to his kids to possibly help pay for part of college one day. Tragically, the bottom fell out of the Beanie Baby market, leaving his Beanie Baby for College plan short. However, he still has most of his Beanie Babies, including Princess Diana, and all of the fun stories that go along with hunting them with his kids.
I’ve always been curious about what people collect and why, and that’s why one Saturday I went to what was tantalizingly titled “The St. Louis Oddities and Curiosities Expo.” The Expo invited “Lovers of the Strange, Unusual, and Bizarre” and promised both weird and sustainably sourced items sure to tickle your curiosity. Boom. I was in.
Giant Tortoise Shell
Before we even got to the Expo, I got a text from my friend Tina. It was a picture of her five year old granddaughter standing next to a giant tortoise shell. The caption read “YOU’RE GOING TO LOVE IT HERE!” Tina was right.
So look, ya’ll. I pride myself on my love of diversity. Let your freak flag fly. You do you and be comfortable in your own skin. It’s one of the reasons we live in the place that we do. Our neighborhood not only embraces but actively encourages diversity. I also have ZERO poker face. None. Zip. Zilch. It’s one of the things that went away with social contact during quarantine. Damn you, COVID.
The people watching at the Oddities Expo was outstanding, but it was the vendors that had my WTF face working overtime. There were no tiny spoon collections or Beanie Babies here. I found myself at one booth with an overabundance of bones in boxes staring until my friend Stephanie leaned over and whispered “umm….you should close your mouth”. I wondered out loud a) how does one get into bone collecting, b) when do you cross the line from bone collecting into bone hoarding? c) should we be worried about the level of bones that this dude has in his collection?
I started to giggle. What would bone guy think we were weird for the large number of antique radios scattered throughout our house? Collections are funny that way. When you find something that you love, something that you can’t get enough of, someone is going to raise an eyebrow at you. Someone is probably going to low key think you’re a bit of a hoarder. But more people are really going to see who you are through what you bring into your collection.
Collections are a super simple New Thing to try. What do you already have that you can add to? What did you love as a kid? Is there something in your environment that can inspire a collection? (our historic 1890’s era house in addition to Rob’s college years at a radio station inspired our collection of antique radios).
We have found great pieces for our collection on Facebook Marketplace, estate sales, Ebay, flea markets, and careful hunting at antique shops. When looking at antiques, don’t be afraid to negotiate your prices. Make sure your friends and family are aware of your collections as well. They can keep a lookout for good finds. Beanie babies were hard to find back in the day, but they are easy to find for the discerning eye now. They may not pay for college education, but they’ll still bring a lot of enjoyment. At the end of the day, that’s what collections are for.
