Get Collectin’ or Die Tryin’
“I don’t think any collector knows his true motivation.”
– Robert Mapplethorpe
Hey, you. Yes, you over there. Come on over, grab a stool, and lean in for a second. We’ve got a question for you—a deeply personal one. How big is it?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t get the wrong idea! We’re not trying to be weird—we’re just researchers,* not creeps. What we mean is… how big is your collection?
And no, this isn’t just small talk. Think about it for a minute. You collect something, don’t you? Beanie Babies, baseball cards, comic books, autographs—there’s something in your house, your garage, or maybe even your soul that you’ve decided is worth amassing. Maybe you started and then quit, maybe you inherited it from some relative who had way too much time on their hands, or maybe you’ve been the lucky target of a steady stream of “thoughtful” gifts from well-meaning friends: “Oh, I saw this souvenir spoon while I was in Niagara Falls and thought, hey, you like spoons, right?”
However it started, one thing’s clear: we’re all mad for our stuff. We looooove it. We’re obsessed. We’re like Gollum with his “precious,” except instead of one tiny ring, we’ve got garages and mini-storage units and attics bursting at the seams with all our shiny, must-have, gotta-get junk. It’s a little embarrassing, honestly, but hey, we’re right there with you.
Now, we know what you’re thinking: “But wait, digital is the new sexy!” Sure, digital is dynamic, kinetic, instant gratification. It’s like eating a candy bar in the checkout line—delicious, yes, but is it fulfilling? Hell no. Digital is fleeting, it's ephemeral, it's a million Tinder matches and no love letters. Bits and bytes corrode over time, eaten alive by bit rot and the relentless march of obsolescence. And let’s face it, digital stuff lacks that handcrafted touch, that whiff of artisanal quirkiness. Instead, we’re just drowning in a sea of algorithmic sameness.
(Which, by the way, is the name of our new electro-synth, prog-rock band’s first album, Algorithmic Pixels of Sameness. Our debut single is called “I’ve Got Algo-Rhythm.” Thank you, we’ll be here all week.)
But back to our regularly scheduled programming.
Britta Lokting wrote this cute little piece in The New York Times about why you should grab a book of matches every time you see one, like a thief in the night. Why? Because matchbooks are perfect little relics of where you’ve been—great neighborhood joints, legendary music dives, or that random bar where you had a little too much tequila and told a stranger your entire life story. And hey, they come in handy when you need to light a candle or, you know, whatever else you might light up.
But we digress.
The point is, whether you planned it or not, your stuff—the crap, the collectibles, the curated chaos—all of it, is part of who you are. Your personality, your status, your identity. Remember all those pandemic Zoom calls where everyone was low-key flexing their background bookshelves or carefully curated wall art? No one was showing off their Amazon wish lists; they were creating self-portraits out of their stuff. Stuff is a mirror to the soul, and we use it to scream to the world, “This is us! Love us! Understand us!”
One of our earliest episodes is about tribes. Oh yes, collectors are a tribe, with their own little signals and secret languages, their conventions and swap meets, their sacred watering holes from Comic-Con to flea markets. Collecting is community; it’s comfort; it’s connection. It’s people finding people who love the same weird crap they do.
So, how big is it? That’s for you to decide, friend.
*Note: We are not professional researchers. We just play them on a podcast.