The Signature Issue

It looks like the decision about BreyerFest Live has been made for me, which is actually fine: I’m already signed up for two other live shows this year and possibly a third, and I’d rather get a little more experience under my belt before I tackle something that big, anyway. So next year it is, maybe? 

I’d also rather focus on my more immediate needs, like socializing and selling. And unlike a lot of other hobbyists for whom BreyerFest Live is the only show they either have access to or are comfortable attending, I have more options.   

Breakables is still a possibility, of course. The resin show is not: I only own one resin – the 2011 BreyerFest Store Special Sorcerer’s Apprentice – and honestly I’m too afraid of breaking him to even take him out of the box, except for the occasional photograph.  

I still have a little bit of lingering resentment from when resins first became a big thing, too: some the early adopters were not the least bit nice to us OF Breyer enthusiasts, and I have a hard time forgetting. 

I’d rather not rehash the old arguments, though. Our worlds rarely intersect nowadays.

I’ve finally – well, more or less – finished unpacking from the show last weekend. This week I’ll be working on mostly nonhorsey things, like my taxes, some early gardening prep, and an applique project (some vintage Dresden Plate blocks that I found at the local Salvation Army, years ago) that’s coming along a little more quickly than I anticipated.

Oh, there is one model horse related thing I should probably put to a community vote: guys, should I get Shat to sign a horse for me?

Normally I am not a signature-oriented person at these conventions: I go to shop, people watch, and attend panels and stuff. For those of you who do no conventions outside of BreyerFest, just imagine BreyerFest without the horses or the room sales. 

Motor City Comic Con has been my go-to comic convention since the late 1980s, when I have had the time or inclination. There have been a few times I’ve (almost) run into model horse people at the Motor City Comic Con, but that’s more of a “nerds being nerds” thing than a “me being weird” thing. 

There’s always been a lot of overlap between those two worlds: an enterprising soul could probably get a pretty good research paper or thesis out of it, but I am not that person.

But back to the signature issue. Signatures on model horses, by and large, don’t add a lot to the value of a model, unless the signer is someone who is historically important outside the world of model horses. It never hurts the value though, and if it has a personal or historical meaning to the person getting the signature, monetary gain is irrelevant.  

And that’s where I’m at with this. Value is not that big a consideration for me, except where it becomes so high that it impedes my ability to buy something I want or love.

As awkward as it is sometimes, I love it when my worlds collide. A memento of that collision might be worth the price. I also think Shatner might enjoy the possibility of signing something that’s horse-related for a change, as well. 

(I may have to get a signed copy of Danny Trejo’s cookbook too, because how dope a Mother’s Day gift would that be for Mom?)

Rare Enough

Sorry guys – for some strange reason I did a little poking around the family tree just for fun, and now I appear to be knee deep in some serious genealogy research. With all the business I have to catch up on in the next several weeks, it’s not something I thought I needed to do, but here I am doing it anyway…

But I have held you all in suspense long enough with this package that arrived a couple of weeks ago already, so here it is:

A little background information: this all happened the same day that the Starry Skies Stablemates dropped on the Breyer web site. As I said before, I was a bit hesitant to buy more Blind Bag Stablemates, so I wandered over to eBay to clear my head a bit.

Aside from the fact that there were a couple of sweaters on there I was eyeing, I was also poking around on eBay because I had missed several good model horse auctions over the past several weeks previous as a consequence of my still-ongoing scheduling issues.

Perhaps lightning would finally strike for me, right?

Then, it actually happened.

I saw an honest-to-goodness Grail Model.

It had just been listed.

The seller was accepting offers.

So I made an offer.

It definitely wasn’t the price you still may see on eBay, but it was what I thought was (a) reasonable, and (b) within my budget.

I wasn’t expecting to offer to be accepted. Surely others had also seen it, and it’s something that’s on a lot of collector must-have lists. Even if I didn’t get it in the end, I figured I made an honest effort, at least.

An hour later, my offer was accepted.

I didn’t believe she was actually mine until the package arrived about a week later:

Yes, a Showcase Collection #1430 Palomino Grazing Mare!

Showcase Collection packaging (ca. 1970-1972) was one of the few examples of early Breyer packaging I had not acquired yet. Because of its fragility, it has been described as one of the “rarest” types of early packaging, but I don’t necessarily think that’s the case. Dumbbell stickers and the original Touchability Boxes are almost equally fragile, and far more scarce.

What the Showcase Collection packaging has got going for it is desirability: it’s just rare enough that even average collectors can reasonably dream of eventually adding one their own collection. And there are just enough of them turning up on a yearly basis to encourage others to dedicate themselves to actually collecting them as a thing, the same way some of us collect Chalkies, Stablemates, or color variations.

As you know by now, I am more of the former, not the latter. Though if I were lucky enough to find another, I certainly wouldn’t pass him or her by…

Locarno 62

It’s that time of the year when everyone is cleaning closets, slashing prices, or listing their otherwise unlistables in order to pay off their bills and/or stay on budget. I’ve been trying to be good about my budget, too, but some of the deals I’ve had to pass up have nearly killed me.

I finally broke down and bought a box lot. The price was right, and after I resell the bulk of it, I’ll be left with this handsome fellow free and clear:

It’s a Special Run #1406 Morganglanz Locarno 62! I had been wanting one for a while; I have a bit of a soft spot for this largely unloved mold, and his Mahogany Bay paint job is so dark and pretty.

This release is one of the best illustrations of why the most important component of “Collectability” is Desirability. He has all the points in his favor, on paper: he’s a relatively scarce Special Run, distributed overseas, in a genuinely beautiful color.

But he is not considered particularly desirable. While his coloring does give him a bit of reprieve from the antagonism the 2014 Exclusive Event Gris Gris receives, he’s still not beloved or sought out by many. A lack of interest translates into a lack of listings, so you hardly ever see them for sale stateside – and that’s most of the reason why it took this long for me to get one.

It’s mostly about the mold: there’s never been a lot of love for awkward and ungainly Morganglanz. He’s a tough sell even when you dress him up in pretty clothes, like last year’s BreyerFest Reserve Grand Open Show prize Brigadeiros.

http://www.identifyyourbreyer.com/images/brigadeiros1.jpg

That might change in the future. The original Decorators were a huge bust in the 1960s, and molds like the Classics Mestenos and Brishen have gone from “not” to “hot”. So as unlikely as it may seem, it could happen.

In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the fact that rarities like Gris Gris and Brigadeiros are within the realm of possibility in my budget.

Top of the Heap

One of the things that I bought that I was hoping was awesome? It’s awesome!

Mint in box Chalky Clydesdale Stallion with the original 1974 Collector’s Manual – and bag! I think I can say that I’ve reached the top of the upgrade heap with this guy.

The funny thing is that he’s not my first MIB Chalky; my first was a Chestnut Belgian – which I bought primarily because he looked like a pretty nice MIB Belgian, not because I hoped he was a Chalky. I thought he might be, but at the price I was getting him at it didn’t matter. That he was was just a bonus.

The Clydesdale I did buy under the assumption that he was – which is not something I do very often, because judging Chalkies by slightly blurry online photos is an always-iffy proposition. I shelled out the little bit extra cash (for me) because I figured he was at least a semi-safe bet: in every other regard, he was a premium, high-end piece.

This is where the market is now going with Vintage pieces, anyway: the more bells and whistles, the better. White Picture Box? Check. Original Collector's Manual? Check. Original Bag? Check. Near mint condition? Check. 

Chalky? BINGO!

Even the roughest of Chalkies will always have a value – just as beat-up, coverless copies of key Golden Age comic books still have a greater-than-nominal value. But as with many collectibles from the modern era, better is better.  

Model horse collectors aren’t big on the concept of “patina”, outside of exceptions that fall either into the category of amusing (the heavily bloated, the heavily yellowed, or the disturbingly warped) or the exceptionally precious (Decorators, Test Colors, our childhood carpet herds).

It’s always funny whenever an antiquer tries to sell a body-quality Breyer that way. Luckily for me, it doesn’t happen too much around here any more; if it does, it’s usually someone new to the area who has not yet been schooled by the locals.

Now to dig out the Chalky Clydesdale I upgraded from – who is not too shabby himself, but Mint In Box he’s not.

Mold Marked Fury Prancers

Something short today; I am still recovering from the minor medical procedure I had done on Wednesday. Again, it’s nothing serious: I had to change my sleeping position until the incision heals, and I am not getting a lot of quality sleep time as a result.

I was fortunate to acquire a number of Fury Prancers in one of my recent collection purchases, though space being what it is around here, I wasn’t able to keep any for myself. What was most interesting about them was that most had the circular mold mark. You can just barely see it on this Palomino one:

The Fury Prancer was issued in multiple colors - Palomino, Alabaster, Black Pinto, Palomino Pinto, Black Beauty - from ca. 1956 and probably through 1961, being replaced ca. 1962 by the Western Prancing Horse. (It was also issued in Woodgrain and in Blue, but both of those appear to be special run/special order things with very narrow production windows that didn't cross the mold mark divide, either way.)

Like most molds still in production at the time, it received the circular mold mark ca. 1960.

The #27 TV’s Fury - the solid Black, with 4 socks and a star - isn’t uncommonly found with it; they did make him for at least another five or so years after that, through 1965. But other Prancers in other colors are somewhat more difficult to find, which makes sense: they were made for two years, at most. It’s the two years near the end of their run too, when production quantities already tend to be lower.

While I was a bit bummed that I couldn't hoard them like I wanted to, I took some consolation in the fact that Mold Marked Fury Prancers are not extravagantly more rare than the unmarked ones, and many collectors haven’t turned their attention towards that mold variation - yet.

As more collectors focus on collecting specific molds, colors, or eras, I think mold variations like this will become more significant in terms of collectibility and value. As they already have with the Clydesdale Stallion, and are beginning to do so with the Family Arabians and the Quarter Horse Gelding. 

I wasn’t able to detect any other obvious or subtle mold changes between the pre-mold mark and post-mold mark Fury Prancers, but they didn’t stick around long enough for me to notice, either. Another research topic tossed onto the "look into it later" pile, I guess.

The Trouble with Midnight Sun

Sort of took the day off yesterday; I even did a little bit of real-world shopping, mostly for necessities, but some Black Friday coupons were involved. Camping out in the Michigan cold? Definitely not!

I’ve been meaning to tackle the issue of Midnight Sun and other Big Lick models for a while, but I didn’t start to collect my thoughts on the subject until the latest long and complicated discussion on Blab.

I lost track of that discussion for a while, so other than bringing up a few points as to why the mold could still be viable in collectibility, I stayed out. Been dealing with a lot of family drama, and I’ve been trying to minimize my contact with it within the model horse world, too.

(Hence my slight shortness on the subject last time. Mom’s been obsessing over a neighbor’s antics to the point where I wonder why she even has cable.)

A brief history of the mold is in order: Midnight Sun really isn’t Midnight Sun: it was originally sculpted as a generic Tennessee Walker, and his identity was assigned later. There’s a possibility that Chris Hess may have partially based the original sculpt on the Grand Wood Carving sculpture of Talk of the Town, the son of Midnight Sun whose exaggerated action gave birth to the Big Lick phenomenon.

Midnight Sun molds can be competitive in collectibility. I know of at least one early 1970s Marney SR in Red Chestnut (a run of five), and the 1984 Congress SR in Flaxen Chestnut, which is a very pretty shade of chestnut, all issues of the mold aside. And Test Colors, of course.

The original Black release of the Midnight Sun does have at least two significant variations that could also be competitive.

The Chalky version is one, naturally. I don’t think I need to explain that.

The earliest (nonChalky) Midnight Sun releases have very distinctive and "clean" (no overspray) gray hooves. It’s quite different from the gray-brown hooves you see on some of the Chalkies and other early examples. It is relatively uncommon; I have one, but he’s in storage right now.

So, if I were judging collectibility, I would not rule the mold out automatically, as long as the model was properly documented/curated as such. In collectibility, we are looking at the model more as an art historical object than as a true representation of a horse. It can be both, but theoretically the anatomical and ethical issues shouldn’t necessarily play a big part in collectibility judging.

Nevertheless, the situation in the Walker world is unique and serious enough that an acknowledgement of the real world issues in the documentation would be necessary, to make it clear that it is being shown as an art historical object only.

As to whether or not I would place it would depend on what’s on the table; in most cases, I think, the mold’s probability of success is relatively low, because desirability does play a part in evaluating collectibility, and the mold has been declining in desirability for some time. This is why I think banning the mold outright is unnecessary: declining desirability will remove it from the showring with less commotion than a ban.

We cannot obliterate the Midnight Sun mold from our history. Aside from the practicality of doing so, they can - and need to - serve as reminders of what has happened before. Erasing things doesn’t necessarily prevent it from happening again, and in fact might make it worse should it reappear. Because for too many people, the absence of evidence does equal evidence of absence.

This is also why I am fine with the Midnight Sun in collectibility - but only as an historical curiosity that should still be studied, not as something that needs to be promoted or perpetuated.

I can understand if some judges want to take swifter action, and take a hardline stand against the mold in all contexts and all situations. I don’t have a lot of Midnight Suns in my collection, outside of the Congress Special Run and the various Black variations, and I doubt I’d ever show any of them in collectibility anyway. I have so many more models that would be more suitable in such classes.

Midnight Sun is at the heart of the discussion that’s raged in the model horse hobby for years: should it strive for absolute realism or idealization? Depict the real horse world as accurately as possible in miniature - warts and all - or "perfect" it with the most idealized/correct representations of breeds or breed standards? (What Does Exist vs. What Should Exist)

While many hobbyists say they are striving for "absolute realism", what they’re actually going for is closer to idealization. If idealization becomes the default standard (which I tend to think it will, eventually) then I believe it is imperative that we strive to promote more humane training methods and natural gaits, and discourage those that are not.

(Note: I don’t necessarily have a problem with either judging philosophy - realism or idealism - as long as the judge or showholder makes it clear which philosophy they subscribe to ahead of time and I can adjust my showstring accordingly.)

Potsherds

This is how my October is going: on Monday, I accidentally picked up a live spider with my bare hands, and it wasn’t even the worst thing that happened to me on that day. Just the worst I can mention in public. (I don’t mind spiders, as long as they don’t invade my personal space. Or pretend to be a piece of lint sitting on my desk.)

On a more pleasant note, I did get a chance to see a Tractor Supply Special Dillon in the wild this week. He did have a couple of smudged spots, which is why he was probably still there. He might still be there, since due to some unwelcome schedule changes (October, see above) I am still way behind in the herd culling process here. No new horses until then, if I can help it, and if Reeves can hold off on the surprises.

One thing that I have managed to make some headway on is in the scanning of a big batch of vintage hobby photos that I received a few months back. There’s nothing groundbreaking or historically significant in what I’ve seen so far, other than a nice smattering of old customs and Chicago-era Test Colors. Most of the photos are either old photo show pix, or from the live show scene in the 1980s, full of goofiness like this:

Top that, NAN!

Even though there doesn’t seem to be any "there" there, I still think it’s important to scan and document everything. Sometimes you need a lot of bits of data to reveal a larger truth, and sometimes we have no idea what that truth is until we step back and assemble the pieces.

Years ago, in college, I took an "Intro to Archaeology" class, partly out of personal interest, but also to fulfill a Social Sciences credit. The professor (Who was a collector, himself! Not horses, though.) related a story about how they were on a dig and recovering potsherds - broken bits of pottery. Pottery is one of the better ways to date archaeological sites: either by its increasing sophistication, or by an already established history taken from similar sites.

Anyway, they were rushed for time, and they made the decision to recover just the decorated potsherds, not the undecorated ones. They were all mixed together, and they figured that the more decorated ones were either more interesting, or more representative of the culture, something like that.

Several months later, as they were reconstructing the potsherds back into pots, they realized that the reason why the plain and fancy potsherds were mixed together was because they were from the same pots. All they could piece together were the decorative bands around the pots, not the pots themselves!

Hence my reasoning behind my "scan/save everything" philosophy. Some of the more humdrum stuff may be important too, and we’re just not seeing the bigger picture yet.

There was one photo did make me do a double take during my scanning yesterday, though. Can you tell why?

(Click to see the much bigger photo, for the details.)

No, it’s not the fact that an Original Finish Alabaster Proud Arabian Stallion won big; it was the 1980s, and our "Arabian Stallions of Traditional Size" options were rather limited.

No, check out who’s standing next to rather nice Alabaster Proud Arabian Mare, in the back: it’s the infamously rare Special Run Black Blanket Pony of the Americas, with the striped hooves! Not an everyday sight - now or then.

(In case you were wondering, he’s one of the few models on my short list that I might actually hurt someone for.)

The second thing I noticed in this picture: the POA didn’t win her class. That’s almost as inconceivable today as a PAS winning a Breed class, but Collectibility was not as big a thing back then.

Yes, it played a part, but we were still at the stage where we weren’t quite sure what was and wasn’t truly rare, and how much that mattered. This was an era where it was still possible to have your Test Colors get beat at a live show by a horse bought off the shelf in an enclosed cardboard box on Friday afternoon before. (Handpicking? Yeah, right!)

Things were a little wilder, woolier and unpredictable back then, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Some of the photos that were left behind, on the other hand, are debatable.

The Flip Side

The other side of that Stablemates Flier is interesting too - and will you look at that!

It looks like I have to make a correction on an earlier claim, then: here’s another instance of those unproduced Arabian and Morgan Foal sets being mentioned in Breyer ephemera. (I previously thought they only appeared in the 1975 Pricelist - my bad!)

This sort of thing happens all the time in historical research - not just of the Breyer type. Corrections have to be made because new data shows up, and more often than not, it makes fools of us.

In this case it’s not TOO big a deal: the foals were never produced or released, and hence will (probably) never have to have documentation written up about them. (Unless they, too, show up just to spite us all. With all the things I’ve seen over the years, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.)

However, it has become something of an issue with other items over the years. Hobbyists can become overly fond of their particular history resources, and as a result some of the errors in those resources get carried forward, even when more recent editions or research corrects or contradicts those errors.

In a lot of those cases, the corrections are minor - an errant misspelling, a transposed number, confusion about actual release dates versus catalog release dates - but in some cases, they are not.

The one that bothers me the most is the Boxer. Breyer, back in the late 1970s and early 1980s, sent out a "Complete List" of Breyer Releases to hobbyists who asked for it. Although it was extremely helpful as a starting point for many of us (including me!) what we didn’t know at the time was that Breyer had an extremely small base of ephemera to work from.

The earliest dated piece they had was from 1958, so most of the earliest items were given a release date of 1958. Including the Boxer.

Since then we’ve been able to conclude otherwise: the Boxer came out in 1953 (maybe a little bit earlier, but 1953 is the earliest dated appearance in print.) That’s a five-year difference - enough to make a relatively common early Breyer even more so.

And then there’s the case of the Old Mold Mare and Foal, which Marney Walerius was convinced came out in 1956 - and which couldn’t have happened, since the Hagen-Renaker molds they were based on (and sued over!) came out in the Spring of 1957. Claiming the 1956 date insinuates (albeit innocently) that the legal action H-R was pursuing wouldn’t have been valid - though it’s pretty clear from Breyer’s actions in the matter that they most likely were.

(I say "most likely" only because I haven’t seen the paperwork, and with legal paperwork, wording is everything. That paperwork is one of MY holy grails, BTW.)

Neither one of those instances will necessarily affect the value of the pieces in question: Boxers are still going to be modestly priced and lightly collected, and hobbyists will still covet finely preserved specimens of Old Molds almost as much as the H-Rs they were derived from.

The only instance where I see it really mattering - other than in an official/popular history sense - is in the terms of collectibility documentation. If someone judging collectibility prefers one source over another - and theirs isn’t yours - well, I could see some issues there.

(Speaking strictly hypothetical here: not implying anything about anybody.)

Joey in the Box

Who doesn’t love a box with their name on it? Especially when it’s a gift?


Here he is, mostly out of his box. (You’ll have to cut me some slack; I just opened the box a few minutes ago.)


According to the sticker on the outside of the shipping box, his release number is 712073; the number on the box itself is 1489, which is the release number for the Regular Run release of Joey, on the Man o’ War model.

Why the discrepancy? The box is (what I’m assuming will be) the standard one for the Regular Run release of the Joey, on Man o’ War. Unlike previous boxes, it’s not a generic box with stickers and labels added: everything is printed on it directly.

As I haven’t examined the packaging for any of this year’s new releases in detail, I don’t know if this is a new thing, or specific to this release. The past few years of BreyerFest releases weren’t generic either, so I’m going to assume that it’s a new thing.

If that’s the case, I hope it doesn’t spur a new trend towards box saving. I kind of like that the hobby has a more lax attitude about boxes than others do. It helped, I think, that prior to the early 1970s, there weren’t a whole lot of boxes worth saving. Horse/Rider sets, the licensed properties, and some of the illustrated shippers have some visual appeal, but the plain old corrugated shipper boxes everything else came in? Not so pretty on the shelf.

Plus, we show them. You can get away with showing MIB items in Collector’s Class entries, and maybe in halter, if you’re willing to push that envelope. Performance is out of the question, though, unless you’re other hobby is building ships in bottles.

I probably have a few more boxed items than the average hobbyist, mainly for research purposes. If I were more of a shower than a historian/collector, the vast majority of those items would be box-free, also.

I’m actually a little bit on the fence about deboxing my Gloss Joey completely. I do "need" one representative sample of this packaging, and I am unsure if I’ll be getting any other items this year that would come in the new standard packaging. And he’s not a mold and/or finish one normally shows much outside of collectibility anyway, so…

Fads

I Googled The Greening of Whitney Brown movie that Reeves has been pushing all over its Facebook page, which I presume is in anticipation of some sort of Special Run release. The description, straight from The Internet Movie Database (IMDb.com):

Whitney, a spoiled pre-teen from Philadelphia, is forced to move to the country when her parents feel the squeeze of economic hard times. A fish out of water, far from her comfort zone, she befriends an amazing horse, and undertakes a misguided journey back to her old life, only to discover that her family is her home.

More schmaltz. Sigh. I swear, my next NaNo novel is going to be an attempt to write a YA horse story completely free of sentimental claptrap, where nobody learns nothing, and the horses are absolutely ordinary in every way.

I’m still a little behind on the word count on the current one, but I’m gaining ground. I was worried that I was running out of steam a couple days ago, but then I took a quick inventory of everything that still had to happen yet, and I think I’ll be good for almost the next week or so.

(Interesting fact learned today: Microsoft Word spell checks words like Trakehner and Saddlebred, but is totally okay with Sasquatch. Read into that whatever you wish.)

I almost laughed out loud the other day when I was giving one of my coworkers a ride to work. Out of the blue, she asked me "You seem to know a lot about collectibles. Could you tell me about Hummels?"

I momentarily thought she was punking me, until I realized who it was I was talking to: she’s probably the most guile-free person I’ve ever met. Apparently there was some sort of family dispute over an elderly relative’s collection, and she really did want an honest appraisal of the market for them.

Unlike most of the other collectibles mentioned in that Yahoo article, I think Hummels will eventually make a comeback. They’re well made, have something of a history behind them, and there’s definitely some inherent and appealing (to some) sentimentality there, too. It might take a generation or two, but the market for them will rebound as a new generation of collectors discovers them.

Most collectibles go through a faddish stage, before they fall back to their more natural levels of interest. During the Depression, for instance, stamp collecting became a huge fad - with many enthusiasts regarding their collections as a viable alternative to a bank account. (Not a completely unreasonable conclusion to make, considering the time.)

Believe it or not, I don’t think model horse collecting has ever achieved the status of a "fad." I think there have been internal fads - certain molds or certain colors becoming inordinately popular, for a time - but the model horse hobby, itself? No, not yet.

It’s always been on the periphery of it, though. There’s already a vague, widespread knowledge and understanding of them as a collectible among the general public. (Note: antiquers and flea market vendors are not the general public.) It never takes more than a sentence or two of conversation with anyone I've ever met before I see a glimmer of recognition in their eyes.

I’ve always wondered what it would take for the model horse hobby to make that leap to the "big time." Celebrity endorsements (actual A-Listers, not B-List Country Music Artists or Reality Show Contestants)? Funny viral Internet ads? A documentary on Animal Planet?

I know a lot of hobbyists have been fearful of the possibility, and the price inflation that could come with it. Seems like a silly concern, considering the way the market is today. Could provide a point of pride, too. Yeah, I was into it way before it was cool.

Clubbing, Pt. II

I didn’t feel like risking hypothermia, so I skipped out on the flea market today: we missed the snow, but still got the cold. There hadn’t been much to see the past few weeks anyway, and I had already blown my wad on Saturday on a couple pairs of work shoes and some quilt supplies at the local Salvation Army.

(Unworn Sanita Professional Clogs, in my size, for nine bucks? Darn right, I’m buying them!)

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again: collectibles aren’t that good of an investment:

http://finance.yahoo.com/family-home/article/113722/worthless-collectibles-street

There’s been some discussion of this on Blab already, but since it ties in with previous post about the new Breyer programs, I’ll add my two cents here, rather than there.

The article refers to collectibles that are considered worthless in the secondary market - among them things like Beanie Babies, Norman Rockwell plates, Hess Trucks, Precious Moments, and anything sold by the Franklin Mint.

Why are they worthless? The article itself doesn’t provide a point by point checklist, but it basically boils down marketing: these are mass-produced items that are specifically targeted towards the collector’s market, and marketed (implicitly, or explicitly) as "investment" vehicles.

The only problem is that when it comes time to "cash in" your investment, the buyers aren’t there.

Seems like Breyers could fit into that definition rather neatly, right?

There are certainly a great many Breyer models that are essentially worthless: take a look at the sheer volume of items listed on eBay and MH$P, many of them priced at body-box level. On the flip side, there are also models that have a great deal of value, and have a good chance (I believe) of retaining a good portion of that value in the long term.

In that sense, I think Breyer models have more in common with collectibles like comic books and PEZ dispensers, rather than Beanie Babies and Precious Moments figurines. While the market for more recently minted comic books, PEZ dispensers and Breyer models is not great, it is not without occasional bright spots. The market for vintage pieces? Also not great, but with a little effort and research, you’ll do okay.

So, what distinguishes comic books, PEZ dispensers, and Breyers from the more worthless types of collectibles?

One word: History.

Having a history means that there was some distance between the start of manufacturing and the onset of direct marketing. That means that there’s a body of "stuff" made prior to the active or organized involvement of either the company or of collectors. It’s stuff that has become genuinely rare or hard to get in good condition because it got used up, worn out, and thrown out - as opposed to direct-marketed things that went straight from the factory warehouse to the collector’s attic.

There’s also history in its more intimate sense: did the objects themselves impact life or history in a meaningful way? Both comic books and Breyer models, for instance, contributed significantly to the happiness of countless children. (They were both certainly a part of mine.)

And thirdly, the history itself should also be interesting on its own. Was there mystery, drama, or complicated legal actions in that history? Lost objects, lost opportunities, or a universe of questions worth investigating?

You’re reading a blog devoted to that third type of history, so I think you already knew that.

Will I be joining up with either of the two new Breyer "clubs"? I remain undecided. My mind's been on other things, lately.

Equus Non Grata

I didn’t go to the flea market today. Work didn’t go well the night before (everyone was at each other’s throats, for some reason), the weather was iffy (overcast, drizzly), and I didn’t feel all that awesome to begin with (an unfortunate choice of snack foods, I think.)

I need to get cracking (again) on the stuff I already have to sell, anyway. Life sort of got in the way of me putting things up on eBay, so it looks like I’ll be starting up the MH$P sales again. Like before, nothing impressive, just the usual middle-of-the-road shelf sitters and collection fillers.

Everything sells eventually, but some models are harder to sell than others. One mold that’s become an incredibly difficult sell of late is the Midnight Sun:


For obvious reasons, of course: in light of the recent attention being paid to the continuing practice of soring in the TWH show community, the mold itself has become (justifiably) something of a pariah. Few hobbyists dare to sneak any into their showstrings nowadays, lest they get labeled as condoning the practice.

We haven’t seen a new release on in the Midnight Sun mold since 2002, and I rather doubt we ever will, again.

Other molds have fallen "out of fashion" before, such as the Appaloosa Performance Horse and the Quarter Horse Gelding, but that was due more to shifting tastes than the increasing awareness of abusive showing practices.

I suppose one could still sneak Midnight Suns in under collectibility; an historical entry would require way more ‘splaining’ that it’d be worth. Especially since the true historical type of Tennessee Walking Horse is closer to the Bluegrass Bandit or even the G3 Tennessee Walker than the Midnight Sun mold - which itself doesn’t even really depict Midnight Sun!

And again, the mere existence of such an entry would also bring up the insinuations of acceptance on the shower’s part.

In some ways, the situation with the Midnight Sun mold has become somewhat analogous to the situation that exists with some of the more offensive forms of African-American memorabilia. Should they be preserved purely as a matter of historical interest, or should they be shunned - or even destroyed outright - to actively discourage that line of thinking from ever arising again?

As someone who considers herself something of an historian, I fall somewhere in the murky middle. Blotting out any part of our history may feel right or good, but it rarely works. Even if you manage to eliminate it entirely, it still leaves a hole, and a hole can be as problematic as the thing that once filled it.

I suspect what will actually happen to the Midnight Sun molds will be more of a continuing diminishment - of both interest, and of controversy - to the point of it becoming an embarrassing footnote. Most of the releases of the Midnight Sun, save for the 1984 Model Horse Congress SR, are plentiful enough that a spike in interest due to rarity will probably never become an issue. (Unless hobbyists get all crazy and start using their spare Midnight Suns as kindling.)

I have a small number of Midnight Suns in my collection - mostly variations of the original release, in black - and I have no intention of tossing them in the nearest bonfire. They’re a part of the historical record, for better or worse. I won’t go out of my way to acquire more, unless they happen to fall into my lap somehow, or have some historical significance (i.e. a Marney Test.)

A Tale of Two Belgians

I had a big day full of activities planned, but I was totally wiped after walking the dog this morning. Stupid summer cold is totally kicking my butt today. Can’t even taste the lemon bars I made as a treat for getting through this crazy week.

Hope I feel better in time for the flea market in the morning.

Anyway, here is a picture of one of the Smoke Belgians I picked up in one of those large collections I purchased recently:


Yes, he has a chipped ear. Believe it or not, he was the better of the two Smoke Belgians I had to choose from.

Condition is one of the primary criteria in Collectibility judging, but it is not necessarily the most important. The other Belgian was completely intact, but he just wasn’t as … nice. The masking wasn’t quite as clean, he had a few dings, and his shading wasn’t as soft and velvety as this one. Oh, he’s a good piece - but this guy was just seemed a little bit better. Even with a chipped ear.

The Smoke Belgian is another one of those models that seems to elude my grasp. It’s not that he’s that rare - he ran from 1964 through 1971, a decent length of time - it’s that condition has always been an issue. Every single one I’ve found had something wrong with him. Not just a ding or two, but stains, cracks, chips, seam splits - the whole litany of disqualifiers.

So this collection came with two Smoke Belgians, and I was pretty excited about the possibility of finding My Smoke Belgian between the two. What sealed the deal, I think, was when the seller gestured to the two of them and mentioned that he was one of her favorites.

"His name was Chester," she said. Dang it, he had a name. I had to keep him. I mean, keep one: she didn’t specifically point out which one of the two was her childhood equine squeeze, so I had the luxury of choosing who got to be Chester.

Initially I thought the intact one was going to be him - chipped ears are usually an automatic out when it comes to collecting - but once I got the two of them home, and cleaned up, it wasn’t so easy a decision.

I finally went with the one I "liked" better, because of all things that go into defining Collectibility, none of that matters if you don’t "like" a model to begin with.

The Details, Again

Sorry about that. I couldn't find the picture I wanted to use for my next topic, so in addition to all of the other junk I had planned to finally deal with, I had to sort through my research slush pile, too. This made me a little cranky and not in any humor to write. (And the picture is still missing. Fooey!)

Onto the next topic.

Have you noticed that Reeves seems to have dropped the ball on the history details, lately? They were doing decently there for a while – a few minor errors here and there that were probably just typos – but the most recent Daily Breyer postings on their Facebook page have been really sloppy. Not one, but THREE of the Hagen-Renaker Maureen Love sculpts have been featured (the Classic Mustang Stallion, the Classic Swaps, and the Stablemates Thoroughbred Mare) with wording that suggests they were sculpted for Breyer in 1975 or 1976. Again!

As I've said before, the lack of mention about Hagen-Renaker could be some sort of legal technicality related to the terms of the leasing contract, but the wording could have been so much better. Instead of “sculpted in 1975 by Maureen Love Calvert” it could have read “sculpted by Maureen Love Calvert and released by Breyer in 1975.”

Similar words, with quite different meanings: the former says that Maureen sculpted them in 1975, implying it was for Breyer, while the latter leaves room for H-R: Maureen sculpted it, and Breyer released it in 1975. If the leases should be renewed in the future, the latter statement would not need the extensive rewriting of history that the former would need. (Can you tell I've had some legal training?)

Anyway, as recent controversies have highlighted, Reeves really needs to parse their words a little more carefully. Not just because of the possible legal ramifications to the company, but because it affects collectors directly, when it comes to something like Collectibility Judging.

As a recent commenter pointed out, it's a real problem when the Collectibility judge decides to stick to the “official” sources for their information. While it may seem like it's nitpicking on my part, it's not, if either the judge or the shower relies on the Facebook page as their reference. It's an “official” page, written by actual Reeves employees, and is thus given a measure of credibility that a shower's personal research may not. Even if the shower's information is correct, and the “official” information is wrong.

It's not just the H-R molds they've been getting wrong, either: they also gave the Traditional Man o' War a release date of 1969, instead of the correct date of 1967. Kinda weird, since it's something that's never really been a point of dispute, since most of us history buffs have copies of the dated 1960s pricelists that make most of the release dates from 1964 through 1969 fairly clear. (Most, but not all. You know the drill.)

Here's another missed detail that I just noticed last night as I was doing a little paperwork for the newest members of the herd. Notice something “off” about the Pony Gals Stablemates packaging?

Here's a scan from the back:


And here's a scan from the front:


Since when did Big Ben become a Stablemate? Or is there something they're not telling us about the upcoming G4 molds? ;)

Collectibility, Part 2

Up front: I think documentation is a very good thing, and something that I'd be doing if I were showing more actively. But I'm not a big fan of making documentation a requirement in Collectibility judging. Suggested and highly recommended, yes, but not required.

Collectibility, as it is judged now, is something relatively “new” to the live showing world. When I was showing in the mid to late 1980s, Collectibility was definitely a factor in judging, but it was not a separate class unto itself. The eight to ten piece “Collector's Class” was a regular feature at many shows, but then as now, placings were awarded to the assemblages, not to individual models.

Collectibility as a “judgeable” class category is mostly a reaction to the influx of newer, more “realistic” molds, and the desire to keep these older molds competitive in the show ring who would not otherwise be able to compete.

Since it is a something newer, and something that has no corollary in the real horse world to model it after, I think there needs to be either some degree of flexibility in the rule, or a transitional period to get everyone up to speed on the practice. The first step would be in making it “suggested” or “highly recommended” practice in the show rules, rather than a requirement. How that would be implemented, I have no idea. Like I've said, I've been an infrequent shower in the past decade, and I haven't had much involvement in NAMHSA beyond the occasional lurking in the various discussion boards.

Personally, I'd be reluctant to disqualify something entirely just because it lacked documentation, especially when it's something that could be extremely competitive without it. A mint in box Woodgrain Stretch Morgan with a gold foil Tenite sticker really doesn't need further explanation: if a collectibility judge doesn't know what that is and why it's being judged for collectibility, they probably shouldn't be judging collectibility in the first place.

However, I think documentation may be still be very useful, even in the most obvious of cases such as a Woodgrain Morgan.

First off, documentation at its most elemental level is useful as a tiebreaker: if you have two equally fabulous models, the one with the superior documentation has the edge, because it shows that the hobbyist has put in that extra work, as opposed to someone who just plops a model into the class and hopes that their model's sheer greatness will overwhelm all comers.

Second, documentation demonstrates the hobbyist's knowledge about what he or she collects. Any hobbyist with a little bit of luck could find something exceedingly rare, but I'd give the edge to the hobbyist who knows why it's rare, and is able to articulate why. That's showing me that they're a collector, and not just an accumulator.

And third, documentation may help in further distinguishing a model in ways that are not visible to the naked eye. It may be a particular rare, obscure or subtle variation. It may have an interesting or significant provenance. It might have a unique or important history independent of its mold or color.

Documentation isn't an automatic pass: not all research materials are created equal. Internet sources, for example, are of varying and sometimes dubious quality. I wouldn't discount them entirely, especially if it is the only source of information about a particular model or variation, but I'd give a strong preference to printed sources, or back them up with other relevant citations and cross-references.

Some arguments have been made that documentation removes the need for a Collectibility judge to even know the subject at all. On the contrary, I think that the judge would need a strong working knowledge of the available reference materials to be able to judge if the attribution and documentation has been done properly in the first place. Someone who misidentifies their models in their documentation is hindering, rather than helping their entry.

In cases like that, an absence of documentation actually works in the hobbyist's favor. You get no added benefit by not including it, but you also aren't accidentally sabotaging your entry, either, with sloppy or incorrect research. Sometimes it's better to let the model speak for itself.

(For the record, if anyone wants to use anything I've posted here as part of their documentation, feel free. Just cite the web site address and the date of the post. No guarantees are given or implied: whether the judge accepts it as credible or not is their own prerogative.)

Programming Note: I probably won't be home for any significant amount of time tomorrow. Next post on Thursday!

Collectibility, Part 1

Sorry about that – I was a little under the weather there for a couple of days. I'm appreciating the extra hours the boss has been giving me (as does my bank account) but it's certainly starting to take its toll on me physically. I think I've spent most of the past two and a half days sleeping! (And when not sleeping, quilting. Good for the nerves, not so good for the fingertips.)

I was just thinking about the issue of showing in Collectibility classes and the need for documentation. It was a bit of a heated topic there on Blab last week, but I was a bit too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to add my perspective to the discussion when it was going full blazes.

I have given a great deal of thought to what standards I would apply if I were to either show or judge collectibility. That's where my interest in history intersects with the live showing aspect, after all: if I'm going to show or judge in the future, that's where my focus is going to be.

I'd like to preface my comments here with a few qualifying remarks. One, I've only occasionally live shown in recent years. Not for a lack of local opportunities – there's a show literally less than a mile from my house – it's just that my hobby energies have been focused elsewhere. Two, I've also never judged: I've been consulted a few times on collectibility standards, but never actually been asked to show up and actually apply them. (FYI: I haven't been actively seeking that role either, but I'd consider it if it ever came up.)

I'd break it down into four basic criteria: Condition, Quality, Rarity and Desirability.

Condition is the easiest to explain, and understand: it is a measure of the state of preservation of a model. Is it yellowed? Are there any flaws visible to the naked eye, such as rubs, scratches, chips, breaks, paint skips, missing pieces? If restoration has been done, has it been done well? Has it been brought back to its original factory state, or have questionable enhancements been made?

Quality is a measure of the production value of a given model. Not all models of a given run are created equal: some have better shading, cleaner seams, tighter masking or more details. If I were to hazard a guess, only about one in ten production models is live show quality, and only about one in 100 approaches flawless (no model is completely flawless: you can always find something.)

Rarity is not simply about comparing piece counts: some models may have higher piece counts than others, but that doesn't necessarily make them “less rare.” The way the model was distributed, sold, or advertised has an effect on rarity, as well as the when. This is particularly a factor with older or less well-known special runs from the 1970s and 1980s. Some of these weren't necessarily targeted exclusively towards the collector's market: many of them were sold to the general public, and have since become “lost” to us, like the recently discussed Black Blanket POA.

Finally we have Desirability: I call this the “Want It” factor. Some models are simply more desirable than others: an Indian Pony is going to be more desirable than a Lady Roxana. Certain colors are more desirable than others, too: Glosses are the hot trend currently, as are certain non-realistic colors such as Silver Filigree or Charcoal. This is the most subjective of the criteria: every judge is going to have slightly different biases and preferences when it comes to what they would consider “desirable.”

Documentation will have little effect on the judging Condition or Quality. Most flaws or demerits in these criteria are plainly visible to the eye, and can rarely be explained away. There are instances where documentation can spin the less than pristine state of a model into a positive factor in its collectibility. I have a couple of test colors painted on bodies with rough, uncleaned seams: I would explain that these rough seams indicate that they are probably true test colors, likely from the preproduction phase. The rubs and dings on a cull could also be explained away: they are to be expected on models thrown into reject bins, which were likely rejected because of a previously detected mold or paint flaw in the first place.

Documentation is more of a factor in the criteria of Rarity and Desirability. As I hope I've demonstrated in some of my posts, there are many models that are more – or less – rare than we perceived them to be. Not every judge is going to be as well-versed in the scales of rarity for every single model. Faced with a large or involved class, they may opt to ignore what may appear, at first glance, to be a more common version of a model.

The original release of the Midnight Sun is an excellent example here: there are several different versions of the original release in black. One of them is actually rather scarce: the earliest version, which came with distinctly light gray hooves. (And quite different than the more common gray-brown hooves version, which I'd show you if I knew exactly where my Midnight Suns were. Which I don't, at the moment.) Pointing out that particular detail, especially if it is done accurately, not only helps the judge evaluate the Collectibility of a model more accurately, it also demonstrates that the shower has done their research, and that's also a plus.

Desirability, as I said earlier, is the most subjective of my criteria. What is it beyond Condition, Quality and Rarity that makes this model special enough to be considered “more collectible” than others? This is where documentation can make the difference between placings: in a way, it's sort of the “interview” question in a beauty pageant. And like a good response to any interview question, it's the short, concise, and well-phrased answers that give you the edge. And again, it's another opportunity for the hobbyist to show that they've done their research.

See. Told you I spent a lot of time thinking about this!

In regards to the original discussion on Blab, my opinion is this: if documentation is required by the show rules, then that's where the discussion ends, obviously. But for a number of reasons, I'm not in favor of documentation becoming a mandatory requirement, at least not yet. And as for why, I'll explain that tomorrow.