Collecting is a hobby that I enjoy immensely. Too much, actually. If I took collecting seriously, I would be so broke. Also, I would have no where to sleep because my entire apartment would be shelving units. I used to attempt to avoid collections of any kind, but after 25 years of life, inevitably, this uncontrollable desire for bunches of things had got me a couple times.
From a very young age I started collecting. My first real experience collecting started with Pogs (whoo the 90s!). Buying Slammers and trading Pogs with other kids at school. (Best marketing scheme, next to Apple, if you ask me. Printed cardboard and plastic. Jeeze.) It got to the point where I had so many that I had multiple Pog-tubes full. Did I ever play? Hah. No. But I wanted more and more. Eventually, the Pog phenomenon died (rather abruptly, whoo the 90s!) and my Pogs got put away, no longer welcome at school. That's when the Pokemon cards came in.... So Many Pokemon Cards.
The Pog story pretty much encapsulates how my personality deals with collecting: My inner child wants All The Things. Not to use them; just to have them. Borderline hoarder maybe? Anyway, despite lack of funds, I managed to do some collecting when I was a kid. I was most proud of a Sailor Moon Manga collection (yes, I was a nerd girl with very few friends when I was a kid). I had almost given up on completing the collection when a high school friend gave me her copy of the first book, that I was missing. I still keep the books visible today.
Which brings me to books. Books are a sore spot for collecting that the BF also shares with me (not alone, yay!). We have books upon books in shelves, in boxes, on side tables, etc. I have cookbooks, some from the 1940s. I have Agatha Christie novels, from the 70s. And children's fairytale books. When my grandfather moved, I helped my mom and uncle pack up his house. Since I was the only grandchild to pitch in, I got to pick what I wanted from the house. When I was little, my grandmother had a fairytale book that I adored. The book was thick and rectangular and full of wavy colourful pages. It turned out that there were many of these books around the house, from collections or just singletons. I took them all. Even now, if I see an old fairytale book, I get that itching feeling.
Another heirloom set I got during those 3 days of packing up Grandpa's house was my grandmother's china collection. Old Country Rose, made in London, England. A really popular set, all original from 1962. She never got to finish the collection when she was alive so I visit antique shops whenever I travel in hopes of finding some original tea plates or the mythical coffee pot, to complete the collection.
Those are the collections I'm proud of. The collections I think about and get a warm fuzzy feeling of accomplishment. I do have two secret collections though... that are shameful. (No, not porn.)
Over the years, I seem to have collected a lot of kitchen appliances. Specifically blenders, of which there are currently 4 sets in my storage closet. The even more crazy thing is I used to have 5 blender sets. I didn't buy all these blenders myself, I just didn't ever stop asking for them. So I ended up with the 5 blenders: the Ninja (my favourite), the Food Processor, the Smoothie Maker (complete with smoothie cups), the regular glass blend-all, and the micro-food processor (most useful thing I own). The regular glass blend-all went to the upstairs neighbours, then Christmas happened. I swear, they are breeding in the closet.
The last collection of shame is my fabric collection. I love sewing. Unfortunately, this love comes with a closeted tendency towards hoarding. Fellow sew-ers will sympathize (while everyone else thinks we're crazy). Sometimes inspiration hits and I have to have that fabric. Despite not having a project to use it for... or anymore room in the fabric closet. One day I will whittle down that pile. Hopefully.
Collecting for me is the Forbidden Hobby. I can't engage in it too much for fear of being claimed by the obsessive personality that underpins me. But from the collections I do have (of which there are more than I thought), I get the pleasure of perusing them and soaking in the nostalgia of making them.
The Half-Assed Hobbyist