As I discussed in my recent posts, if you’re an avid collector like I am, you know the process of hunting and gathering easily takes up our free time. If you’re a dedicated collector, too, you also know acquiring additional pieces readily uses up our spending money.
However, those expenses are often all right. Most Americans have spare time to relax or even waste, especially on weekends. We look forward to our downtime and often make time for the leisure-time activities we enjoy. Most people also have discretionary money to play with; we have the means to pursue our hobbies, and we’re willing to spend money on our interests. In fact, most people think spending time or money on themselves is entirely acceptable, so these costs of collecting are often considered completely reasonable.
The third cost of collecting, however, can be substantially more problematic because that consequence is always present—for our collections must exist somewhere, so they take up our valuable space.
For us avid collectors, the point of checking eBay or going to a flea market, of course, is to acquire additional pieces for our collections, so after a Saturday afternoon of junking, we usually have lots to show for our efforts, so we’re faced with more items to bring home, squeeze in, and maneuver around.
At first, of course, our new finds are our treasures. They are trophies for our efforts, our dedication, and our great shopping skills. We looked, we found, and we admired, so we bought. Soon after getting home, however, longtime collectors often find that their new purchases can quickly become white elephants, which is an old-fashioned term to describe things that may be of some value but aren’t necessarily fully appreciated.
Our beloved collections can become white elephants, or even elephants in the room, simply because they take up so much space. Our collections can fill up wall space and floor space, living space and storage space, space at home and space elsewhere. Moreover, if large collections need large amounts of space, extensive collections need even more, so they can actually take up our whole homes.
Extra space is usually quite tight in our own apartments, condos, and houses. Once we fill a space, we can’t fill it with something else. We can’t eat our cake and have it, too, but we want too, so we collectors come up with creative ways to display and store our collections.
First, we fill our walls with paintings and pictures, shelves and racks. We then line our rooms with bookcases, display cases, and curio cabinets. Next, our collections creep from room to room: We first display our treasures in the family room, perhaps, then the formal living room, and eventually even in the guest bathroom. We turn narrow hallways, spare bedrooms, and bonus spaces into our private galleries.
We defy the principles of good interior design and cram rooms with oversized cabinetry, crowded displays, and clashing colors. We resort to displaying toys in the parlor and sports memorabilia in the dining room. Master bedrooms reflect only the style of the lady of the house, and man-cave gear sneaks into the laundry room.
Once we’ve filled all open living space with our collections, we take over the dark recesses of our homes, too. We start storing our overflow, our extras, and even our new purchases. We pack up our treasures and fill our attics, our basements, and our garages. We say, “Don’t open that closet, Molly.” We put up “temporary” tarp-covered carports, and we have permanent sheds built.
If that’s not enough space, and we committed collectors need even more, we’re then willing to pay for mini-storage. We rent small units, large units, climate-controlled units, and even second and third units—and we pay. Month after month, we pay for space off site and the “privilege” of storing our so-called prized possessions.
Even if we’re filling only the space in our homes, this third cost of collecting might be the dearest of all because it is an ongoing expense.
Extensive collections demand a considerable number of square feet in our homes. They fill valuable real estate, and prevent us from living appropriately in our spaces. The more we collect, the more space we have to give over to our collections—or the more our collections take over our space, and, if we’re not careful, our collections can overrun our lives.
No matter how much we love something, if we don’t really have room for it, it becomes a problem. Our collections can clutter up our homes. They can limit our activities, push out our loved ones, and exclude our friends.
While we might want new acquisitions for our collections, we might not be able to adequately or reasonably solve the ongoing problem of too much stuff and too little space—unless we find a better way.
Rather than cramming more into your homes, why not consider curating your collection and displaying it at The Collectors of Western New York? It’s in the works as a new way for serious collectors to manage their extensive collections.
Has your collection grown to gargantuan sizes? Has your collection overrun your home? Please leave a comment and let us know how much space you’ve given to your prized possessions.