What Story Do Your Collectibles Tell About You?
If your stuff could tell a story, what would that story be?
Think about it for a second. If your computer is a Mac, you probably care about aesthetics and the ‘look-and-feel’ of objects. Or perhaps it’s because you’re an iOS developer, and it’s more practical to use Xcode than using some workaround system on a Windows or Linux box. Whereas if your computer is a PC running Windows or Linux, you may care about other things, like saving money, playing games, or supporting open source initiatives.
Our objects and possessions tell a story about us, either consciously or unconsciously. In my case, I collect vinyl records and 16-bit video games published by certain companies like Koei and Enix in the early 1990’s. To the average person, an autographed copy of Ray Charles’ Genius + Soul = Jazz and a copy of Super Mario Bros. 3 on the Nintendo would be unrelated. But in the story of my life, these two objects are related. What story do they tell about me?
As an 11-year old, I made my first $100+ purchase with my own money. I saved my paper route money for months to earn enough to buy Super Mario Bros. 3. I had saved every tip and dollar made in a brown Pac-Man ghost wallet. Once I had $120 in $1 coins (Canadian ‘loonies’), my dad and I went to a Canadian Tire where I proceeded to proudly dump all 120 coins onto the counter, much to the chagrin of the poor cashier. I hadn’t even played Mario 3 yet, but I knew I had to have it.
When I was 15 years old, I made the most important trade of my life. I traded my trusty paper route bicycle to my aunt in exchange for her record player and a small collection of vinyl. Thanks to this trade, I discovered the Beatles’ White Album, Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass’ Whipped Cream and Other Delights, and the Ray Charles album I mentioned earlier. When I got my first ‘real’ job at a hotel, I got the chance to get Ray Charles’ autograph on that record. I’m quite proud to have a copy of Genius + Soul = Jazz with my name written on it by Ray Charles himself (his handwriting is surprisingly legible for a blind man, by the way.)
These two purchases represent my first tastes of independence. That record player turned out to be a gift that kept on giving for another 20 years. I listened to The Smiths for the first time on that turntable, and made countless mixtapes for girlfriends and friends with its built-in cassette recorder. My buddies and I would make “Barq’s Tapes” on the recorder — collections of hilariously-terrible music we uncovered as we acquired more $1 records at garage sales, thrift shops, and record store clearance bins. The worse the cover looked, the more interested we were.
We’d buy every Ray Conniff, Herb Alpert, Lenny Dee, and Mini-Pops LP we could find. These were the pre-YouTube days, and we were obsessed with the worst-of-the-worst. We couldn’t wait for people to realize how awful Eiffel 65’s “Blue”, “Backstreet’s Back” or “Who Let The Dogs Out” were so we could add them to our mixes. MC Hammer continued to be an ongoing source of inspiration, with amazing audio turds like “Addams Groove” and “The Funky Headhunter”. Slayer covering “In A Gadda Da Vida”? Check. The live version of Kim Mitchell’s “I Am A Wild Party”? Check. A Spice Girls b-side from a CD single from their second record, Spiceworld? Check. The greater the turd, the greater the appeal to us.
In my case, these two unrelated items (NES games and vinyl records) represent my desire for independence, and my love of creative expression.
Everyone has a bizarre story about why they acquire the things they do. Think about why you’ve picked up the things you have, and what they say about you. If you collect original Nintendo cartridges and you won’t stop until you have a complete collection, what does that say about you? What about collecting cover variants of comic books and magazines? Besides the internal drive, what do these objects say about you as a person? What story do they tell? Often there’s something deeper to collecting than the simple act of hunting and gathering objects. These material possessions are an expression of your thoughts and feelings. We’ve attracted these objects through our thoughts and feelings, too. The same could be said about digital collectibles – virtual items hold just as much emotional weight for many of us as physical objects.
What’s most important to you? If you were to make a list of your top 10 favourite possessions or collectibles, what story would they tell about you? What are the objects? Are the objects naturally related to each other, or are they related because of you? Do you own these things because they tell the story you want to tell, or are you sharing this story through your things unintentionally?
