Sleeping With Money: I Was Mean to a Toy Collector
Dating can be harsh, as the Sleeping With Money series will sometimes indicate. I’ve dealt with some heartless people in the past, although some could say the same about me. One of my meanest experiences was purely unintentional on my part. The source of my guilt: I overreacted to finding out that someone was a toy collector.
Back when I was single, I met a guy we’ll just call Homer. I had just been going through a nasty breakup at the time. Homer came up to me at the bar and we started having a long and funny chat about movies and music we both liked. So in my breakup rage sadness and all, I sort of went home with Homer that night. The next morning I caught a glimpse of his home office as I was headed to bathroom. I saw a wall covered with action figures in their boxes. There was everything from Simpsons, to Star Wars, to stuff I never heard of before. Toys were everywhere. I knew that Homer was like 38 or 39 years old. I was so weirded out that I gathered my stuff in a hurry, muttered to Homer something about an emergency that I had made up, and I never called him again.
Yes, I know it was pretty mean, and to this day I feel bad about it. The world isn’t kind to toy collectors in general, as this volatile Digg thread points out.
I have to explain my reaction though, in hopes that it can help toy collectors understand why dating may be more difficult for them. To put it simply, it’s the not the toy collector who is unlikable, it’s the clutter.
For instance, my mom and one of my sisters were terrible hoarders while I was growing up. They saved all the clothes they ever owned; they never threw out any goods that had been replaced by something else; and they bought crafts and collectibles that were the complete opposite of my taste. It was their money, so I had no right to care. Correct?
Actually, their clutter would find some way to overflow to the rest of the house, and even in my own bedroom at times. I never saw them reach for the stuff they were saving. They knew where everything was, but they never used them! And what drove me crazier is that they would keep adding things to their collections!!
They called it “collections,” but I called it clutter. To me, if you’re not using what you’re buying, it’s a waste of money and space. And if it’s making the house or shared environment look aesthetically unpleasant, then I or anyone else has a right to complain.
I have been living far away from home now for several years now. But as a result of having grown up in the same house with “collectors,” I’m permanently conditioned to hate the sight of clutter, collections, whatever you want to call it. It’s true that some collector’s items go up in value, and that huge stack of action figures could one day turn out to be worth a fortune. However, there’s another danger in clutter, collections, whatever-you-call-it: it presents an overwhelming showcase of one of your interests, which some people may incorrectly interpret as the entirety of your interests. Whereas the toy collector sees joy in their small fortune, a potential mate sees nothing but a waste of money if they’re not interested in cartoons, fantasy or sci-fi.
I worry about my friend who collects fantasy and sci-fi memorabilia. I’ve never seen Star Wars, Harry Potter, Star Trek, [insert similar trilogy]. Tolkien sparks my ire and contempt, but my friend and I still relate to each other in many other ways. He’s incredibly funny and smart, and has many unique interests. But would a girl get to know this about him if she took one look at his apartment, even after a flawless date? Probably not.
It’s not worthwhile to stereotype toy collectors. Having lived with collectors, and having a sometimes toy collector friend, I know that there’s a lot more to people than what they like to collect. I like clothes and music. If I had more discretionary income, I’d be spending more money on those things. Does that represent all of my interests? Absolutely not.
I don’t think it’s the toy collector who has to change. We all have different interests, and we have the right to spend our money on whatever we please. When it comes to dating, it doesn’t hurt to keep an open mind. It’s rather convenient that the things I like to buy will fit nicely into a closet, or can be uploaded onto an iPod — there’s no clutter in sight. Out of sight, out of mind, and no judgment.
A toy collector, on the other hand, creates a quirky museum. It’s not fine art, nor is it very grown up. But who says all of our interests have to conform to a certain standard? Every Homer out there deserves a chance, or at least better treatment than what I gave. Wouldn’t you want your quirks to be given a fighting chance?
The bottom line to me is- its damn expensive to collect just about anything at this point.
That being said- I have a daughter who is 8. She likes American Girl dolls- which are approximately $90 each. She gets ONE each year for Christmas (started 2 years ago). For her birthday this year, we went to American Girl Place in New York and she spent money she had saved to buy herself a third doll. Dresses and accesories are often homemade by me or bought by grandparents for special occasions. I have made it crystal clear that there is no way in our small house and on our budget she could be a major collector- and she gets it.
I understand my story is about a child and her relationship with toys, obtaining stuff- but I feel this is where our level of insulation from the world comes. I do not want her to become someone who wants stuff to shield her from the world. I want her to have a healthy relationship with what she owns and feel freed from hoarding.
One more thing- when has it become absolutely necessary to have everything from every movie? It’s like the Hollywood machine is on overdrive lately with each offering to our kids!
There is no way I would think for one minute about getting my kids new bedsets, room decor, toys etc after each new animated movie hits the screen. Yet somehow, they all have everything to sell! Some idiots must be buying doubles to make up for what I don’t buy.
Oh yeah- that’s the toy collector guy from the story…
My dolls and stuffed animals take bitter offense at you calling them anything other than fine art. They are masterpieces. I stand up for myself and all my fellow adult collectors out there.
It’s not about an investment. It’s about the love. It’s about the appreciation of the craftsmanship. I’m essentially the older version of DivaJean’s daughter. Every year on my birthday I buy myself a Madame Alexander doll. It’s tradition. The doll is special and purchased on a day that I’m special. I scour the collection of available dolls until I find the one that speaks to me. In past years it has been the Leo doll (since I’m a Leo) or the Scottish doll (since my ancestors hail from Scotland) or a Guardian Angel (to watch over me) or Cinderella’s Wedding (since I too long to marry Prince Charming).
Each doll represents a piece of my personality. They convey my passions to those who visit my home. Others may see them as “clutter” but they are artistic expressions and representations. Every doll has a story, an origin of how it came to be in my possession that can be passed on to my children and grandchildren. Each doll is a flashback to childhood, to a time when life was so much simpler and the troubles of the world were not upon us – when something as simple as a doll could bring us joy.
Does toy collecting make dating difficult? Perhaps. I find my doll collection to be a rather useful aid in selecting a partner. Dates who visit my apartment and take issue with my dolls aren’t really the sort I want to pour a lot of relationship effort into. To take dolls that seriously is to take life that seriously. It is a warning to me that people are too tightly wound. I find the people I get along best with are the ones who see the dolls, laugh, and then share their own memories of childhood and the toys they fancied. They represent both a hope for the future and a longing for the past. Sure, I could’ve spent the money on say a CD or a book or something but those things lack the instant visceral pleasure of a doll and they rarely stand the test of time. Nostalgia, a remembrance of things past, of loves past. Isn’t love grand! đŸ˜‰