You are Garbage! Pt. 2
An Imagination is a Terrific Thing to Waste.
This article is part of a self-deprecating series on collectible imagination.
In Part 1, I roughly traced my journey from spectator to creator while detailing a thesis experiment with collecting, auteurship, and this burning question: When does creative influence turn into theft?
Pirates of the Collection
Immediately after my thesis midterm presentation, a professor referred me to a local boutique, named Super7, that intersected with subjects like media licensing. The next day, I strolled to this location with little to no preconceived notions. As I stepped inside, sensations similar to those felt inside my grandmother’s study encapsulated me. The store was filled from wall-to-wall with colorful creations that only children and grown geeks could admire. Media properties from Star Wars to He-Man was represented along imported Japanese oddities. I approached the store manager, Daniel Sant and asked the burning question on my mind: “How the hell is all of this possible?”
“We grew up with giant monsters, comic books, punk, science fiction, skateboarding, robots & rebellion. No one made what we wanted. So we made it ourselves.” Boldly typeset, and framed above toy-cluttered shelves and He-Man themed wallpaper, this geeky manifesto highlights the infectious fan spirit of Super7. Founded in 2001 by designer and toy collector Brian Flynn, Super7 is a boutique that licenses action figures in the style of the iconic Star Wars Kenner toyline alongside t-shirts, imported memorabilia, and zines.
Kenner toys, founded in 1946 by the Steiner brothers–Philip, Albert, and Joseph–pursued a creative toy business under the guise of valuable franchising properties sourced from movies and television. When Star Wars’ licensing options hit the desk of Kenner Toy’s headquarters in Cincinnati, Ohio, senior product designer, Jim Swearingen, sensed a lucrative opportunity for their developing toy sector.
Despite their risky investment in Star Wars, the film’s success caught Kenner off-guard–prompting a frantic move: declare an early bird certificate for forthcoming action figures. From 1978–1985, Kenner Toys moved 300 million units of polychromatic plastic from a galaxy in Ohio. Eventually the success of the diverse Kenner Star Wars waned in market share, as pre-teens aged out of the galactic rebellion. The company saw itself purchased and sold several times before finding a home in the hands of Rhode-Island based Hasbro (Rosen). This is where Super7’s contribution to the toy world comes into play.
Super7 founder Brian Flynn’s passion for the plastic past began with a magazine dedicated to Japanese vinyl toys and other collectibles. From monthly publications on toy collecting to small batch reproductions of variant vinyl toys, Super7 sought an opportunity to seize a market share with the help of passionate nostalgia. In step with our culture’s remix/what-if sensibility, Super7’s products stem from an approach that reverses the paradigm of production from creator to consumer: allowing Flynn’s business to resurrect cultural products for expansion like a Pandora’s Box of media licensing.
In the waves of Star Wars, licensors snatched up all space-related properties on the horizon; among these properties was Ridley Scott’s 1979 science-fiction thriller, Alien. The initial licensing of Scott’s grotesque exploration of face-impregnating, chest-bursting, phallic creatures stood apart from it’s contemporaries as a startling example of how far corporate entities will go to capital on childhood play.
Check out this commercial for the original 1979 Alien toyline:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKSv85mJEmY
Years later, through his magazine editorial, Flynn documented a rare set of prototypes for 3.75” action figures from this ill-proposed Kenner Alien line. With high-resolution images, Flynn and his Super7 team reproduced approximate revivals under the banner of the “ReAction” line. As the years progressed, Super7 underwent arduous negotiations to acquire various creative licenses–giving them the power to resurrect old and new characters in a throwback format. With these creative licenses, classic manufacturing techniques, and pre-established fanbase, Super7’s successful ReAction line took off. Now according to Super7’s retail manager, Daniel Sant, “The brand is holding conversations with major retailers for mass distribution” (Sant).
In addition to the success of their ReAction toyline, Super7 is also developing their own intellectual property. Released in 2014, Super7’s only original action figure line, The Worst–a reference to the eternal appeal of villains to children on the shelves–is comprised of all bad guys. As revealed by Sant, there are plans to adapt the action figure line into a television series; a move not unlike toy-turned-media properties like He-Man and the Masters of the Universe and G.I.Joe: A Real American Hero. Dreamed up by Super7 members, this collection boils down iconic elements of villainy in a classic style; like a retroactive addition to your childhood memories.
There I stood absolutely dumbfounded to hear the story of Super7. This peculiar maker force or audience–while fueled by honest fanfare–took it upon themselves to remix, revive, and reimagine the same cultural products that brought them delight as children. First, these folks discovered a profitable method to “steal” the nostalgic fire of their youth through licensing before synthesizing a fresh approach. This creative business strategy reminded me of a point by artist Candice Breitz:
The idea is to shift the focus away from those people who are usually perceived as creators so as to give some space, some room, to those people who absorb cultural products–whether it’s music or movies or whatever the case may be. And to think a little bit about what happens once music or a movie has been distributed: how it may get absorbed into the lives into the very being of the people who listen to it or watch it (Lessig 6).
This powerful notion of absorption into personal translation or production reveals a similarity in the presence of Super7 and my own creative pursuits. From my early years reading and writing, I absorbed cultural products in whatever ways I could. Now, I focus on distilling the essence of my influences into a format that feels more personal.
Stay tuned for the final part of this series.
Check out The Garbage Boy Project on my website.
Don’t forget to visit Super7 for nostalgic insanity.
Special thanks to Dr. Anne Shea, Daniel Sant, and the fantastic Taylor Wega.
Works Cited:
Lessig, Lawrence. Remix: making art and commerce thrive in the hybrid economy. New York: Penguin , 2009. Print.
Rosen, Steven. “Remember Those Droids You Were Looking For?.” Cincinnati Magazine, vol. 49, no. 3, Dec. 2015, pp. 103–152.
Sant, Daniel. “Super7.” Personal interview. 8 Mar. 2017.
