Look at my collection of erasers

I was planning to write a piece delving into the complexities of the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, but then I remembered that the more I try to get my head around it, the more confused I become. So instead, I thought I’d show you my collection of erasers.

Yes, I collect erasers. As in, the thing British people call “rubbers” — but referring to my collection like that would have unfortunate connotations. The collection is now — at a guess — around 50 erasers strong. Pretty much every tourist attraction in Britain seems to have branded erasers in the gift shop, so it is a good way to remember a visit. (Mostly Britain, mind, I could talk at length about the dire international eraser situation, where many places don’t have any erasers at all).

Anyway, here are some of my erasers.

First off, here’s a good sample of the range of available types of erasers that can be found. Most erasers are cuboids, but as you can see with the Thames Barrier eraser, many come in more adventurous shapes. The European Union eraser is a rare foreign eraser, bought from the gift shop at the European Parliament.

Now I know what you’re thinking: “Why erasers?”. I’d like to think it is because whenever my parents took me anywhere growing up, they wouldn’t let me buy an eraser, so this is an act of rebellion… but I honestly can’t remember their eraser policy. Unfortunately, this means that it might be misleading if I were to shout “Screw you mum and dad, this is what I do now!”

Of course, erasers weren’t the only choice. I could have chosen to collect bookmarks or magnets, which in retrospect would have proven more durable than my erasers — which are already beginning to degrade after only a few years. But if we’ve surely learnt anything from the pursuit of peace in the Holy Land, its that we can’t unmake the world, and must instead work within the context in which we find ourselves.

Here’s a pair of erasers that are seldom pictured together: John O’Groats and Land’s End. I’ve been to both (as well as the other compass-extremities in mainland Britain). Whilst Land’s End was clearly a more commercial operation, better geared towards eraser sales, John O’Groats also had a gift shop which also sold DVDs of bagpiping (for £18) and golliwogs. I thought a commemorative eraser would prove less controversial than the latter.

It appears that most erasers are not crafted by the gift shop attendants at tourist attractions, but are mostly derived from common designs. See below one of the most popular designs: A book, as used by the British Library, Yorkminster Cathedral, the Bodlean Library and the Old Operating Theatre. Perhaps to indicate something scholarly?

Another common design is the rainbow. Whilst obviously it can be nice to pick the colour that reflects you best, getting all of the colours at once is a worthy substitute.

Like all eraser enthusiasts (they call us “eraserheads”), I obviously have favourites. I tend to like erasers that are unique, and reflect the attraction well. In my collection, I have an Eiffel Tower eraser that is actually shaped like the famous tower, and a Science Museum eraser that is shaped like a clamshell mobile phone — complete with a hinge so that it flips up. Brilliant.

The best though is from the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam. Whilst the museum itself is underwhelming, the gift shop is one of the best — presumably because it has a lot of good source material to work from. The erasers are a work of art themselves — and actually depict Van Gogh himself, complete with missing ear.

I hope that in posting this, I have inspired you to consider a hobby in collecting erasers.