The Gray Areas

Still busy, but making progress, enough to take a moment and finish one controversy before I start another. So here’s that other thing I bought recently that you may or may not recognize, from that same seller I bought a couple of other “questionable” models from, and who very well may block me from bidding on items in the future after talking about this:

This Merrylegs was sold as a “Custom” and I suppose technically she is, but in the same way that a lot of Marney Test Colors from the 1980s were: being something painted (or touched up) at the factory using factory paint by someone who wasn’t directly employed by the factory. 

She was advertised on eBay as such because she has the dated signature of her painter, D’arry Frank:

D’arry was a good friend of Marney’s and sometimes accompanied her to the factory in Chicago to also paint things. Even though these models now exist in a kind of “gray area”, the powers-that-were at Breyer at the time gave them the same consideration – and sometimes, moreso – as the Tests and Variations created by the hourly or contracted employees.

The rationale for that being that hobbyists are going to try and paint things that they – and other hobbyists – wanted to buy.

Yes, this is a rather long-winded way of saying that she’s a Vintage Test Color, however we choose to define them. And even if I accepted the original explanation, it would still be a win for me, because I have wanted a custom by D’arry since the mid-1980s anyway!

The real question now is whose collection is this, really? This was clearly someone who knew what they were doing. And a seller (or assistant) who doesn’t quite.

(Still doesn’t make up for the Performance Horse, but water over the bridge, yadda-yadda…)

Identifying Marney Tests

How do you identify a so-called “Marney Test”, a Test Color either created or rescued by famous hobbyist and Breyer Consultant Marney Walerius? It’s both more, and less complicated than you might think!

Marney worked for Breyer in some capacity from the late 1960s through the 1980s, so they are limited to molds produced in that period. Many also have a little provenance: some of Marney’s Test Color photo albums and sales/auction lists still exist. There is definitely little chance of two or more of this gal existing anywhere, for instance:

She also tended to favor certain colors and models. The Hess Stock Horses (see above) were a favorite, as were Adios and Sham. Paint jobs were often (but not always!) pretty basic – lots of solid colors, with minimal markings – and limited to the paint palette they had on hand. 

A lot of them were simple (or not so simple) variations of colors and color schemes that eventually went into production; whether they were preproduction pieces or things that were cobbled from flawed production models is usually unanswerable.

I have a feeling this girl was an early preproduction of the eventual Black Appaloosa Regular Run release, possibly to more closely match the Bay Appaloosa Stallion, but that is just a guess on my part based on her raised hoof.

Marney frequently did the retouching herself, so some of them could probably be classified as “Factory Customs” today, but the question is moot, since most of them are not going to set the showing world on fire. 

(But I love her, regardless. If you know where she is, drop me a line!)

Context is also important. Unless they’re found within the collections of former hobbyists, most random Test Colors found “in the wild” are probably Employee Take-Homes, especially if they’re found within a certain radius of Chicago. Things were pretty casual back then, in every sense of the word; almost anyone could take a little something home from the factory, and they often did. 

Someone Drops A Shoe

To work off the drama of the past several days, I spent a good chunk of my weekend either customizing or gardening. 

I didn’t get quite as far with the garden as I hoped: it was hotter than the bottom of a skillet outside, and it hasn’t rained in a while so the ground was the consistency of concrete. It’s definitely looking better, though.

I thought I was doing pretty well with a few of the customs I was playing around with, and maybe even close to done. Then I hit them with a little primer to check my progress, and discovered I seriously overestimated my customizing skills. 

Oof. 

But here’s a bit of good news: the vintage Black Stallion custom is finally finished! Just look at this beautiful boy:

I decided to go with a retro, poofy ‘80s-style hairdo. I am also inordinately proud of the base I made for him: most custom bases in the 1980s were rather crude (compared to the horse, anyway) and he deserved something classy to stand on. 

I am heartened by the support I received in the comments over the Performance Horse Affair. I was initially hesitant to come forward with the story, expecting that it might generate some negative feedback. 

But I thought it was important to put it out there, because (a) it was already a topic of discussion (b) it was something I was personally involved in, and (c) it did not have the happy ending people were imagining it did.

I have a feeling the model itself is now radioactive; I rather doubt we’ll be seeing it again anytime soon. If it does turn up again, it’s going to be awkward for everyone. 

Regardless, the best case scenario is that maybe this will lead to the hobby having a more open and thorough discussion about the etiquette and ethics of selling and reselling, instead of it disintegrating into insinuations that we’re price-shaming people by even mentioning money.

At this point there are between 500 to 750 BreyerFest Benefit Auction models floating around out there. One of them will be mine someday, I know it. There were a lot of weird, homely and unshowable things in those early auctions: Rugged Larks and Khemosabis and all manner of Classics, to name a few. 

This one would have been the best, most perfect ending of my quest. It was one of my favorite molds (Performance Horse), in one of my favorite colors (Red Roan), from one of the few BreyerFest Auctions I personally attended (1993), at an insanely good price.

Alas, no. But there’s an interesting postscript to the story. 

Here’s the other misidentified model I bought from the same seller the same day for the same price, and (fortunately) the sale wasn’t canceled several hours after the fact:

A nice consolation prize, I suppose, even though I already have another Classic Black Stallion Test Color in the stable. (I know, who gets to say stuff like that? Someone who’s not particularly particular about the Test Colors she buys!)

He feels a bit like a Marney Test to me, but his origins are unknown. The less flashy parts of Marney’s collection were being dispersed by sellers at BreyerFest in 1993 – including boring, solid-colored Test Color Classics, Hess Stock Horses and the like – so it’s entirely possible he was purchased around the same time as the APH. 

Not the happy ending I was hoping for, but I’ll take it. 

Metallic Bay Adios

That was an unwelcome surprise: I found a giant black spider on the envelope of my BreyerFest tickets as I pulled them out of the mailbox yesterday! I freaked out and immediately dropped all my mail on the ground, because spiders. 

The last time I had that close of an encounter with a spider, I got bit and thought I’d have to go to the ER. So my reaction was not entirely unjustified.

I am happy to report that both me and the spider survived the incident unscathed, as did the tickets. (No footprints!) The rest of the mail was also fine, including a lot of vintage Wyoming travel brochures I bought off eBay.

In less traumatic news, I was not draw for a Sparrow, but that’s neither a surprise nor a heartbreak. If I want to speak of heartbreak, there’s another Test Color Drawing, for a Metallic Bay Adios:

I wasn’t expecting this, because he’s not particularly flashy or groundbreaking (another Bay Adios, of all things?) but gosh, he is so pretty. I think I need him. 

Adios was a pretty popular guy in the 1970s and 1980s with both the general public and hobbyists: not only was he a portrait model twice over (Adios and Yellow Mount), he was also one of the more anatomically correct models of the era, and tended to show pretty well. Everyone had at least one Adios mold in their showstring!

Consequently, bodies were plentiful at the factory, which resulted a number of Test Colors and Oddities. You experiment with what’s available to you, after all…. 

The most desirable of these Oddball Adioses at the time, of course, were the Black ones. 

Contrary to hobby belief, the Black Adios was never formally considered a Special Run of any sort: they existed in a fuzzy gray area somewhere in between Test Color, Factory Custom and Gift/Prize Model. 

Some of them were painted by Marney as gifts to hobbyists who were lucky enough to get a factory tour: Black was the easiest color of all to paint, and since it covered a multitude of decorative sins, it was also a good way to use up some of the Culls in the regrind bin.

But she also painted up (or rescued?) some for resale. I remember seeing at least a couple in the Test Color boxes she casually placed on some empty show tables at Model Horse Congress in 1985, the ones that made everyone in attendance go into full meltdown mode.   

I was never lucky enough to get a Black Adios, though I came pretty close: our local hobbyist group was planning a trip to visit the Chicago factory in mid to late 1984, but the tour got canceled at the last minute, probably due to the pending sale to Reeves International. 

Considering how much of a legend the Black Adios has become nowadays, I think I have a better shot at getting the Metallic Bay one. 

Technically, I do have a Test Color Adios, or at least I think he is (yeah, it is one of those things) but I’ll cover him another time, when I actually have a little more to spare.

The Charcoal Lady Phase

Taking a brief break here from another project with a hard deadline (how did I get so busy in December?) so I’ll get back to the Collector’s Club Appreciation stuff another time, when I’m a little less stressed and less likely to voice some of my thoughts in the form of ALL CAPS, anyway.

In the meantime, here’s something short and sweet that will make everyone happy: I found those pictures of the Matte Charcoal Lady Phase! They are not the best, but that (for once) is not my fault:

After the Family Arabians were discontinued in 1973, it’d be nearly 20 years before we’d see another production run of a Charcoal, with 1992’s Gloss Charcoal Memphis Storm.

There are a few other Charcoal Test Colors and Oddities floating around that also date from The Great Charcoal Interregnum, though as with most Test Colors from that period, it’s hard to tell whether they were done to actually “test” for the color’s possible return, or someone (like Marney) simply wanted a Charcoal something-something.

(I know if I had painting booth privileges, I would have painted my share!)

I can’t offer any context for these photos, other than the fact that they predate the arrival of Memphis Storm by at least a few years, and Marney may have/probably had something to do with her.

Where this Lady Phase is now, I have no idea. I’d snap her up in a heartbeat, for the right price.

(Charcoal + Lady Phase + Vintage Test Color = No gonna happen.)

Getting My Circadian Rhythm Back

Effective this week, there will be a change in my work schedule that may or may not affect my posting schedule here.

I’ll also be curtailing my online sales activity, and probably not doing much shopping beyond obligate club purchases and incidental finds. (Which is kind of a bummer, since many of the Duchess pieces I “need” decided to show up on eBay this past week.)

There’s some remodeling going on here and stuff is still everywhere, and will likely be for the next couple of months. To be honest, it’s stressing me out more than it should. No need to add anything more to the pile of things that already can’t be dealt with.

(I can’t believe I once harbored thoughts of being a “completist”. Silly me.)

As I’ve intimated here before and elsewhere, there are some things I want (and need!) to accomplish by the end of the year, and this change to my schedule will help with that.

One of those things will involve monetizing the blog, eventually and slightly. I want to have some merchandise – the usual t-shirts and swag, but also want to make some reference and research materials available for purchase. (A Sampler Omnibus, Marney’s photo album, some article collections, etc.

I’m also thinking about starting a Patreon account, but that notion is strictly in its exploratory phase right now.

So, long story short, if my postings get a little haywire over the next few weeks – multiple postings over several days, or no postings for nearly a week – don’t panic. At the latest, I’m hoping everything will be straightened out by the end of October.

And then you will (i hope) get more of me on a more regular basis. For better or worse!

In the meantime, here’s a not-random picture of a Test Color; I was looking up something else entirely, and ran across what might be Marney’s original reference picture for that Test Color Mahogany Bay Stock Horse Stallion I purchased from The Horse You Want at BreyerFest few years back:

I cannot remember if I posted this or not, but in my slightly addlepated state I think it is neat to see it again, whether it is the first or second time.

(His name was Darrell.)

The Newest Old Gray Mare

You can also count me among the unimpressed with the Breyer Cyber Monday sale. Free shipping is great, but since I’m lucky enough to live in an area that affords me the luxury of handpicking, it’s not that big a temptation for me personally.

I thought they would have pulled out one or two moderately interesting “new” things to spice things up a bit, unless they’re saving them up for Grab Bags. They did come out with some pretty decent Grab Bags in early December of last year – featuring BreyerFest Specials, the French WEG Classics, Zodiac Series Classics and some of the Holiday Mare and Foal sets.

So my little “fun money” fund remains intact for now. Good.

Here’s a picture of the other Warehouse Find/Reissue I purchased along with the Bluegrass Bandit – the Stock Horse Mare in a particularly carbonated version of Dapple Gray:

There are no obvious flaws on her I can see, beyond the ones inherent to the mold itself and the Resist Dapple painting technique.

I have a slightly higher than average fondness for the Hess Stock Horse Family: they came out in the early 1980s, at the peak of my early hobby “career”, and they made up a significant percentage of my purchases then. I didn’t realize how much of a fondness I had until I was reorganizing my boxed models over the weekend:

That’s just a small portion of the Stock Horses I have – most of them are not boxed. Then, as now, boxes weren’t that high a priority for me. These boxes may look a bit rough, but what is important is that all the models in those boxes are top notch examples of their respective releases. And not going anywhere, either. (A few of the later arrivals, maybe…)

I just realized that I have Tests or Oddities of three of the four Stock Horse Family members, but none of the Stock Horse Mare yet. Hmm. I’ll have to keep that in mind, should the opportunity ever arise.

And it should, eventually. If any vintage Test Colors are “easy” and/or inexpensive to acquire, it’s the Hess Stock Horses. Marney’s albums and ephemera is full of them, and this one is a particular favorite of mine:

I often wonder where she is, now. 

Random Test Color Day: Appaloosa San Domingo

I’m tired, not feeling particularly well, work has been running long, and what little free time I’ve have over the past two days I’ve spent researching carousel horse restoration.

(The only decision I’ve made on them is that since Sparky is a Herschell Indian Pony, he needs to be painted like one – specifically, like the Brown Pinto Breyer Indian Pony, warpaint and all!)

So anyway, while I attempt to get caught up on my sleep, my bills, my mail and so on, here’s a random picture of a Test Color from one of Marney’s albums, for your enjoyment:

I have no idea where this San Domingo is, or what happened to him. I just happen to find his big old splashy spots very fetching right now. I have always preferred my San Domingos to be of the spotted variety – though I wouldn’t turn down one of those really scarce BreyerFest Special Run Buckskin Porcelains from 1999 if the price wasn’t too high…

There’s a nice old Appaloosa Gelding on eBay who has spots even bigger and splashier than that, but I am trying my best to resist the urge to bid. I doubt he will go very high, but I need fewer horses and more money right now, not other way around.

The Marney Sale

Doing all my last minute running around and packing; everything is as done as it’s going to be until I get down to Kentucky, where I will be working on it even more. Because in spite of my best intentions, that’s just how I apparently roll.

(Inhale. Exhale.)

I had to scan this interesting bit of history for someone earlier this month, and I thought the rest of you might enjoy it as well – it’s the original flier for Marney’s estate sale, back in 1992:

(With a few selective blur edits. The cropping on the right side, BTW, is my scanner’s fault, I swear.)

I can’t recall if it was mailed to me or I picked it up somewhere else. I do remember that I was aware of the sale ahead of time, but I wasn’t able to attend: I didn’t have the money, I couldn’t spare the time off work, and emotionally? I just wasn’t ready for it, either.

I had (still have!) a number of pieces that I had, directly or indirectly, purchased from Marney, so I had no pressing need to acquire more Rarities and Oddities. All the pieces I would have wanted to buy were clearly going to be out of my reach, or even not available at all (for a variety of reasons).

So it was probably for the best that I missed it.

The only thing I regret, in hindsight, is not pressing for the preservation of her papers. That only occurred to me after the fact; I was relieved to find out that some of it was saved – and some of it I eventually acquired.

But what was lost? That’s another thing I’d rather not torture myself over.

So anyway, as we make our way to our happy place, remember to be kind, keep yourself hydrated, and if you see a newbie in need, adopt them for the weekend.

Seen It All Before

The past 24 hours just….ugh. There are some things kitten cuddles and puppy hugs do not fix. Especially when you have a dog who only wants hugs on her own terms.

The pickings at the flea market yesterday were modest, with the best find being a set of boxed Japanese miniatures from the 1960s, still in their original packing paper and fluff. (That are also staying here for the time being, because I need their cuteness right now.)

I think I should be good to go as far as inventory for BreyerFest, though; I did a local pickup last week, and I may be doing another later this week, if my work scheduling pans out. If nothing else, my body box will be huge and fabulous.

(Whenever I do one of these local pickups it always feels like we’re doing something slightly illicit, in public. “Nope, nothing to see here, officer, just a little horse trading at the park….”)

Aside from the social aspect of horse trading, which I really enjoy, I also prefer to fund the trip that way. Other hobbyists set aside money, I set aside inventory! It helps rein in my spending impulses a bit: what I buy is limited to what I can sell, and how much room I can make in the car.

It doesn’t always work out, but at least there is a plan.

Since I’m a bit short on brainpower today (work scheduling issues), here’s another not quite random pic of a Test Color from one of Marney’s albums:

A Bay Splash Spot Blanket Appaloosa Standing Stock Horse Foal that looks not too dissimilar from the production release of the #861 Family Appaloosa Foal, from 1992-1994:

http://www.identifyyourbreyer.com/images/00861.jpg

Most of the photos in the album the Test Color’s photo came from are from the mid-1980s or earlier, so I think it’s unlikely that the Test led to the Foal, especially if it was already in Marney’s possession by then.

It’s more likely that the Foal was either just one of Marney’s little experiments – let’s try the Appaloosa’s blanket on the Bay! – or it could represent one of the color options they were exploring for the mold’s initial release in 1983.

In some quarters, Test Colors that are that similar to Production Runs don’t get as much love or money as flashier or more exotic ones. As I’ve said before, I prefer them, not just because they tend to be cheaper (usually!) but because of the historical aspect.

The First Trip to Chicago, Part Two

The next day, during a lull in the action and without a lot of fanfare, Marney strolled in with a couple boxes of Test Colors. Every hobbyist in the room, including those who I had thought incapable of moving without motorized transport, immediately leapt up and ran towards those boxes with arms outstretched.

I think the Traditionals were 40 dollars and the smaller scales and Foals were 20: I grabbed an Action Stock Horse Foal in Splash Spot Black Leopard Appaloosa, not just because he was more affordable than a standard Traditional, I had seen nothing else like him, ever. I had to have him!

We were allowed one Test Color, regardless of size and No Exceptions, so when the feeding frenzy was over, stray Tests remained, including some all-black Little Bits Unicorns and Shams in various states of Bay. Every time I see one of those Shams on eBay – I’ve seen several over the years, going for sometimes silly prices – I just laugh. Those were the leftovers.

I can’t recall if it was that day, or the next that Marney told us we could visit her house, and peruse the models she had stored in her garage, too.

Michelle and I hitched a ride with Cheryl Greene: we soon found ourselves sliding around on the bench seat of Cheryl’s pickup, as she dodged in and out of rush hour traffic like Steve McQueen. In addition to the lack of seatbelts, the suspension on her truck was shot, so we were bouncing, jiggling, and giggling (both in anticipation, and fear) the entire way to Marney’s house.

We were the first vehicle to pull into her driveway, which probably shouldn’t have surprised me.

The door opened, and Marney’s Miniature Schnauzer DeeDee ran out to inspect us, followed by who I assumed was Marney’s mom. DeeDee paid particular attention to me, giving me a stern look and short bark: we had just gotten our Miniature Schnauzer Spike earlier than year, so I assumed this extra greeting was to acknowledge that I smelled like a Schnauzer.

Whether that was acceptable or not to her, I was not sure.

Other cars quickly pulled in, including Marney’s. The door to the garage opened slowly, revealing – oh, just the dream of every model horse collector everywhere. It was an entire garage full of horses: bins, boxes, barrels and sheer piles of them. There were pieces of models, finished models, culls, things that she had touched up or altered in some way.

And at least one full drum of Stablemates, that I promptly plunged my arms in as far as I could reach, scratches be damned. Because why wouldn’t I?

After we had made our purchases, and found ourselves shooting the breeze outside (“You know what Breyer needs to make? A Missouri Fox Trotter!”) Marney offered us a very brief sneak peek into her collection.

All I remember clearly were two things: a transparent Belgian, sitting on one of her higher shelves, and a box about half the size of a refrigerator filled to the very top with models, some of which (all of which?) may have been Test Colors. I remember a resist-dappled Chestnut Foundation Stallion, sitting on top of the pile.

I often wonder where he ended up.

Sunday morning came, and it was time to leave. I made my goodbyes, paid my hotel bill, called the cab, and waited outside for it arrive.

And waited. And waited. I began to worry that I wouldn’t make it to the train station on time. In fact, for the first time during the whole trip I actually began to panic.

In frustration, I threw my wallet down, and it burst open. The money fanned out, and I momentarily stared at it in awe: I had sold enough extra models – and somehow managed my money well enough – that I was coming home with more money than I had started.

I did get to the station on time, but the stress was not over: before I could get the last box on the train, the doors closed and the train began pulling out of the station. The conductor made it a point to visit me after that last box was loaded and the train restarted, to see the girl who had momentarily stopped his train.

I was wearing my Wayne State University T-shirt that day; an older couple of fellow commuters noticed it, and struck up a conversation with me. Either one of them or a family member were alumni, and they were so pleased to see someone with a shirt from the school they recognized, so far from home.

When we got to Chicago, they helped me carry my bags and boxes to the Amtrak station, saving me the stress of another cab drive. I wish I could remember their names; I will always remember their kindness.

The rest of the trip was trouble-free. I may have slept most of the way home. I deserved it: I made it all the way to Chicago and back, and I even made a little money for my effort!

Anyway, that’s not all of it, but that’s most of it. Some details are undoubtedly misremembered, and the days blended together so some of the timing is also off. I ended up going to Model Horse Congress two subsequent years, and some of the memories of those may have drifted into this one. (Was it that year, or another, than a famous hobbyist got into an argument with a parrot in the Holidome?)

But now I hope, in this rambling and imperfect account, you can catch a glimpse somewhere in it of why the hobby was and is so important to me. Thirty years ago, and now.

Versta?

Versta.

It’s just another way to say I love you.

The First Trip to Chicago, Part One

It was a birthday present.

It was also the first time I had ever been on a vacation by myself, without the company of friends, family or schoolmates. I had fantasized about going to Model Horse Congress for years: prior to BreyerFest, Model Horse Congress was THE MODEL HORSE EVENT of the year.

But the most important part was that it was a vacation by myself: many of our previous family trips had me questioning the entire notion of vacations being “enjoyable”, and I wanted to see if it could be.

I had a driver’s license, but I lived at school at the time, and barely drove. I had too much stuff to fly, so I had to go by train.

We arrived 28 minutes before the scheduled departure time, at the Amtrak station in Dearborn. I remember this vividly, because apparently you had to arrive at least 30 minutes ahead of time to allow for the loading of your luggage. The person at the ticket counter was adamant that they weren’t going to let me check my bags and boxes – because I was two minutes “late”.

I was speechless. Dad was not: he made a fuss, in the polite but slightly snarky way that he could, and my bags and boxes were loaded.

The trip there was otherwise uneventful. I brought along a book to read – Mary Stewart’s The Last Enchantment – and when I wasn’t reading that, I watched the southern Michigan countryside roll by. For lunch I went to the food car, and bought a hot dog and a chocolate Danish. Two little boys across the aisle were playing with their Masters of the Universe figurines, including (I could smell him!) the notorious Stinkor.

There was a brief bit of panic when I entered Chicago, finally: how on Earth was I going to get to the hotel, which was a Holiday Inn in Rolling Meadows?

I had to find a way to get to the commuter train, obviously.

The people at the station in Chicago told me I that that station was a couple blocks away. I could hoof it, or take a cab. Since I had too many boxes to lug, a cab it was.

That was… probably not the world’s best first experience with a cab. I won’t elaborate, because I honestly can’t remember: at the end of it, the driver basically left me and all my stuff in the middle of the street. Somehow I managed to get myself and all my stuff situated on the train and on my way to Palatine, the closest station to the hotel.

The second experience by cab was a more pleasant one. While I don’t remember this cabdriver’s name, unlike Ahmad he was talkative and cheerful. When I told him what my plans were – a toy horse convention, and we showed them just like real horses! – he made a few affirmative noises, as if he actually understood what I was talking about. Marney had made sure that the hobby had gotten enough press in the Chicago area that it might have actually been the case.

He then motioned to our right. “You see that big black cloud over there?” It was indeed huge; it took up most of the sky. “That’s Arlington Park, burning to the ground.” I mentally crossed that off the list of non-Congress things I thought I might get a chance to do.

The Holiday Inn was a Holiday Inn, nothing terribly noteworthy about it. I walked into my room – on the third floor, of course – and before I had a chance to open or unload anything, the phone rang. It was Dad.

“Did you get there alright? Your mother is worried.”

“I’m fine. I just got here.” I wondered how he had managed to get the phone number of the hotel and time the call just so; I suspected he had called the hotel earlier and told them to call back when I checked in. You know, to check in on the daughter taking her first big trip out of town, by herself.

“You be careful, now. Versta?” Ever since I was very, very small, Dad had always punctuated our little talks with that word. I had assumed, back then, that it meant I love you.

It was only later that I learned what this word was, and what it really meant: it was a Flemish word he had probably picked up from his Belgian grandfather.

Do you understand/do you hear me? 

“Versta.”

I went out on the small balcony, and noticed an unopened can of Old Milwaukee beer sitting on the ledge, which I thought was an odd but not unwelcome gift. Looking down, I noticed two fellow Michigan hobbyists – Sue Maxwell and Linda Leach – unloading their car. Their room was just down the hall from mine.

After they had settled in, they invited me to go visit Marney Walerius – the showholder and the hobby legend! – with them. She had a room on the first floor, near the show hall. When we arrived, the room was full of other hobbyists as well, some of them I had only heard of in my newsletters, or Just About Horses.

They were swapping stories and pictures, and gossip. Even though I considered myself a relative unknown then, I never felt unwelcome; in fact, I finally felt as though I had finally found my home. I even managed to sell someone my spare Calico Kitten, which I had just recently upgraded via the local flea market.

I was showing Novice the next day, and my table was next to the Bentley Sales Company’s table. The biggest fuss was about the Congress Special Run, a beautiful light flaxen chestnut Proud Arabian Mare. There were plenty of her to go around, though (288 of them, in a giant cardboard bin, no less) so my attention turned to the mixed boxes of models, loosely wrapped in bags, fresh from the recent cleanout of the Chicago factory. I dove in, pulling out a couple of Test Colors, some oddities, and some unpainted things.

These were my first genuine Test Colors and oddities, and I have them still. No model in those bins cost me more than six dollars, but this was also back when Traditionals cost less than twenty. The Special Run Proud Arabian Mare was only 11.99, herself.

Later that day, Marney asked me if I could accommodate a roommate who was arriving that afternoon by bus, and of course I said yes. Aside from leaving me with more money to spend, why wouldn’t I want to help a fellow hobbyist?

We ended up spending the night talking comic books: Batman, Jonah Hex, the Legion of Super-heroes. It was strange and wonderful, and we got along perfectly. Michelle is the reason why, even today, I tend to believe that even hobbyists who are strangers to me can and will be good roommates. We share more in common than we do with a lot of our family members, so why shouldn’t we?

I did only modestly well at the show; contrary to some reports you might hear elsewhere, I was not raking in the awards. My Collector’s Class entry did garner some attention from Peter Stone himself, who chuckled and pointed at my Modernistic Gold Doe; apparently there had been a funny story about how Breyer acquired those molds, but I only caught a few fragments of that conversation, none of which made any sense until years later, when I finally did the follow up research.

It may have also been that day – I can’t remember which, specifically – that Peter had brought a box of the latest Just About Horses, fresh from the printer. We all excitedly leafed through them, and I nearly fell over when I noticed that it was the issue where they published my very first article: “The Ethics of Repainting”.

I was my first real experience with being model-horse-famous!

The show wrapped up early that day – very unusual, then as now – and at the end of the day there were just a handful of us in the now cavernous show hall. I was talking to Michelle and made a comment about how my penpal – and fellow hobbyist – Erica said she might be here, but I hadn’t gotten the latest letter from her before I left.

One girl behind us turned around and said “Are you talking about me?” It was her!

Lucky

Here’s a picture of the Marney Test Color that I spoke of earlier, that I bought from the Black Horse Ranch sale booth at the Horse Park Sunday afternoon. I was taking one last look-see at what was left – to pick up another Appy Performance Horse, maybe, or a foal of some sort – and here this guy was, sitting nonchalantly on the table, like he was no big deal:

At first glance he looks like a basic, run-of-the-mill Bay Stock Horse Stallion, with gray hooves. The gray hoof variation is somewhat uncommon, though classifying it as “rare” might be a bit of a stretch. 

But he’s not that guy.

First, he’s Mahogany, not the Brown or Red that’s more typical of a Bay SHS. He also has an elongated, masked star and shaded (ahem) boy parts.

He’s not a Preproduction Test for the Bay release – the mold marks say otherwise – but I could see him being a possible Test for the Special Run “Sam I Am”, that is a very similar shade of Bay.

Or he could be something that Marney just whipped up on a slightly subpar body she pulled out of a cull bin one day. (He does have a few minor molding issues.)

I do consider myself lucky to have found him, and recognized him, even when my BreyerFest was essentially lost. Yay, me!

Speaking of losses…

Nope on Milky Way, and nope on the Chicago waitlist. The former is only a slight annoyance: the Bluegrass Bandit mold is very popular right now, and other hobbyists wanted her more than I did. She’s a cutie, but I can live without her.

But the latter hurts more, if that’s even possible.  Rejected twice: now I feel like I have cooties.

In the abstract, I do understand that I have had an otherwise enviable hobby “career”, and a collection that would have many of you Googling my address if a meteor were to take me out tomorrow. (Good luck getting past my brother, though: he’s been to BreyerFest and he works in retail.)

I’ve been to 25 BreyerFests, I attended three Model Horse Congresses. I own a few dozen Test Colors, and I know – or have at least met – most of the major players in the hobby, some of them before they were famous. Some of the things I’ve done or experienced are the stuff of hobby legend. 

I knew Marney. I met Chris Hess. I consider Linda Walter a friend. Peter Stone has left me voice mails. I had a private tour of the Breyer factory in New Jersey. Breyer once came to my house.

Some of my models and ideas have been translated into Breyer releases. My name has graced multiple issues of Just About Horses. I’ve been interviewed, photographed, and (so I’ve been told) appeared in at least one Breyer video.

I was the original Ninja, and once first in line for the NPOD. I wore a cape to the Horse Park, and tromped around the Covered Arena in six-inch high vinyl platform boots. I’ve won everything at least once.

And this year, I officiated my roommates’ wedding, in the presence of two Kentucky Derby winners.

I acknowledge all this is awesome, and am grateful – and so lucky! – to have had such experiences.

But in spite of all that, I can be – and still am – disappointed by the outcome of recent events. I have a competitive spirit, and not one to rest on my laurels. And I am also not the kind of person who will tell you that I am fine, when I am not. 

Some APH Tests

It's been one of those days. So here's are some pictures for you to ogle at:

While Test Colors that utilize the original Appaloosa Performance Horse paint job are almost plentiful, Test Colors on the Appaloosa Performance Horse mold itself are not. The reasons why are obvious: the mold is very "old school" Appaloosa and not very flashy. The two vintage photos that I have from Marney's files are both, no surprise, Appaloosas. Here's the other guy:

Although both models appear to be from the mid-1970s - and may possibly even be Preproduction pieces - they utilize a softer, finer speckling technique to their roaning that wasn't used on a production run item until the later 1980s.

At the point these two were made, the only other roans in production were the "Freckle" Red Roans on the Running Stallion, Lying Down and Scratching Foal. So Breyer had the technical capability to make more realistic roans, and chose not to.

Interesting!

There are a few more recent APH Tests floating around, including that fabulous frame overo piece for the BreyerFest auction a little while back, and somewhere, out there, the Test piece they used as a stand-in for the Stud Spider in the 1977 J.C. Penney Christmas Catalog.

Wanna talk about grails? Sigh...

More on the BHR Rehoming Sale

One of the recent Black Horse Ranch eBay auctions looked very familiar, so I took a quick skim of my files, and look who I found in one of Marney’s albums!

This is the same Dapple Gray with white points Proud Arabian Mare that went for an oh-my-goodness amount about a week or so ago.

The photo is unmarked and undated, but presumably before 1992; most of the photos in this particular album are from the mid-1980s, so I’ll hazard a guess that that’s when and where this model came from.

There are a few photos in the album that are specifically attributed to Karen Grimm, including at least two other Test Colors and several Decorators that Marney was obviously using for reference. Including this guy, whose auction ended Friday:

I have no idea if discovering and posting these photos earlier would have had any impact on the prices. Maybe, maybe not. In the PAM’s case, most of the value would be in confirming the fairly safe assumption that it - like most hobbyist-owned Test Colors from the 1970s and 1980s - passed through Marney’s hands at some point.

Not all did, of course: eBay has been littered, over the years, with Tests and Oddities discovered "in the wild". Lots of people had access to the factory, and the goodies sometimes abandoned inside. 

There are several unmarked photos in the album, so it would not surprise me if there are even more of Karen’s models "hidden" within.

In other BHR news, it has been reported that part of Karen’s collection will be sold at BreyerFest at the host hotel (the Clarion) in one of the suites, starting Thursday night. As far as I know (no time to follow up here, again) it’ll be a straight-up sale of Breyers and some of her famous "Faux Finish" Breyers.

Whenever someone asks me about selling off an entire collection - big or small - I always give "take it to BreyerFest" as a viable and expedient option. It’s the best place in the world to get rid of a lot of models quickly: that’s where the money and the desire are.

I’ve gotten some flak for advocating it, because some hobbyists see it as a limiting factor: if they can’t go to Kentucky, they can’t buy. It’s early enough, however, that I hope some enterprising hobbyists will consider offering pick-up and selection services, like they do for Special Run Ticket items and at the Peter Stone Warehouse Sales.

(I can’t do it. Please don’t ask.)

I gather that due to safety and capacity concerns, there will likely be a limit to the number of people in the room at any given time, so there may be a line or numbering system of some sort.

I don’t know what I am going to do about it right now. My Thursday night is already on its way towards being extremely busy, and I doubt I can accommodate an extended amount of time standing in another line. 

I’m more curious to simply see it (and document it!), rather than purchase anything from it. Though I will buy something, undoubtedly, most of the models I would pine for I wouldn’t be able to afford. *Bask+++? Certain Test Colors? Some of the more exotic Fauxs? Not gonna happen.

More New Old Photos

Friday already?

Still up to my eyeballs in old business, of both the hobby and nonhobby sort. So more new old pictures today. First up, another vintage Test Color:

A Resist Dapple Gray Midnight Sun! I believe this might have been another one of those early 1970s "Micro" Runs that may have been repurposed Test Colors. Like the better-known Traditional Man o’ War in Dapple Gray, the Red Chestnut Midnight Sun, and the Cantering Welsh Pony in Dapple Gray.

By the way, those early Cantering Welshies predated the 1985 Just About Horses Special Run by several years, and don’t look anything like them. The one I saw in person looked more like the Midnight Sun, above, except a little darker.

The second photo is part of a small set of pictures of one wall of Marney’s collection - what appears to be her Arabian Shelf:

Yep, those are Test Colors on the far right side there. I suspect that some of the Glosses on the shelf are Test Colors, too, and not merely Old Molds. There are some Proud Arabian Mares in the Test Color Album that appear to be attempts at recreating Old Mold colors and finishes. Some of them in that album might be the same models seen in this photo, but for a variety of reasons (size, quality, angle of photos) it’s difficult to confirm. The Chestnut Proud Arabian Stallion might be this guy, though:

I know there was some controversy a few years ago about the authenticity of a Gloss Proud Arabian Mare - with the Breyer mold mark - that made its way to eBay. I was less skeptical than most about it, but I didn’t have the money then to verify my hunch.

The plastic bags on the Customs (aka "Repaint/Remakes") were a not-uncommon practice back then. It was done partly to cut down on the dusting and protect the paint job, but primarily to keep the mohair manes and tails clean.

Hairing was de rigueur in the 1970s and 1980s: even Foals and Stablemates got the mohair treatment! Keeping them neat and dust-free, though, was a pain in the behind. Periodically replacing the hair wasn’t an option either, since good mohair was expensive and hard-to-find.

Getting the hairdo to look just right was an art all its own, too. During that brief window of time when I did custom work, hairing was the one aspect of it I was actually really good at.

That being said, I was kind of glad to see the trend fade away a bit, at least in this part of the model horse world. Hairing jobs, no matter how carefully tended, don’t age well.

Factory Tour, 1986

Wrapping up some old business here, so it’s going to be more show than tell today.

But the pictures are worth it. Presenting - a Breyer Factory Tour ca. 1986!

From Marney’s files, of course. They’re all in black in white, so I’m assuming that they may have been taken for future reference or use in an article or feature. When I had my first article published in Just About Horses in 1985, I recall, photographic submissions had to be in Black and White.

Here are the painting booths, awaiting fresh victims:

First ones up in the factory - the Traditional Black Beauty! The story I heard was that the first models Reeves manufactured fully under their aegis were the #89 Traditional Black Beauties, so it’s possible they may be them. There are no notes on any of these photos anywhere, so I can’t be sure.

There’s also no way of knowing/distinguishing those early Reeves Black Beauties from the thousands that roam the Earth today. Quality control was a bit of an issue in those days, and seams were a little rougher than they should have been, but that’s about it.

Here’s the warehouse:

I work in inventory services, so this is a sight I see often - though the boxes in my case are usually filled with car parts, electronics, or paper towels. Be still my heart - is that a case of Polled Hereford Bulls (#74) down front? I think we’re going to need to ask for a SKU check and run a variance report on that…

Here’s what I’m assuming is the packaging/fulfillment area. Among the sights I see are Phar Lap, the Lying Down Unicorn, Stormy, the Bay Shetland, the Family Foal, the Black Beauty Family, and some Corrals down front:

Ah, the mysteries contained in those freshly wrapped shrinkwrapped boxes! You both knew - and didn’t know - what you were purchasing. The box would say "Phar Lap" - but would he be awesome, or awful? It was like a retail version of Schrödinger's cat.

And here’s my favorite picture of the group:

I had no idea Ron Burgundy had a brother who worked for Reeves. Huh.

No actually, that’s Tony Fleischmann. They have plenty of awkward and slightly embarrassing pictures of me in their files, so having one picture in my files brings a little more karmic balance to the universe.

Showrights and Stuff

After work on Friday I drove right past the one hobby shop that I knew had the Sahran and Night Mare in stock. I had been feeling off most of the week, but when I realized what I had done, I went right back to bed once I was home. I knew I had to be sick, because the change of seasons wouldn’t be messing with my head that much!

Anyway, here is another photo from the batch of ephemera I recently picked up:

This picture excited me because I own the Sorrel one on the right. It’s not a look-a-like or one of a small batch: it’s the exact same one, because the back of the photo tells me so!

I bought the Pony directly from Linda at BreyerFest in 2012. She already had a pretty fabulous provenance as it was, but having this photo makes it even better, now.

The "NOT FOR SHOWING" written on the back of the photo is in reference to photo showing and showrights, because photo showing was IT back then. If you were lucky you’d make it to one or two live shows in a year - if they even had one in your area - but the average model horse newsletter would have at least a dozen or more photo shows in a month.

The best way to describe showrights would be photo showing by proxy, mostly. You’d buy the rights to show a set of photos  - either as that specific show horse, or as a completely different horse, depending on the seller of the showrights.

Sounds weird, I know, but it made complete sense back then. Hobbyists who didn’t have the time or money to show their models as much as they wanted still managed to get their models out to shows via people who could. Others saw it as a way of showing without having to invest in camera equipment, film processing, or tack and props.

There’d be disputes, naturally, over what kind of showrights were sold, over the ownership of the compensation you might receive from a show, whether the purchaser of the showrights was living up to the agreement, etc. In other words, it could get real messy, real fast.

Photo showing is much less of a thing than it used to be, and cost is less of an issue now with digital cameras and online photo showing. Showrights are not extinct, but a much reduced aspect of the hobby; I’ve met some younger hobbyists who scoff at the notion we ever did such a thing.

But let’s get back to the ephemera.

Because photo showing was a much bigger deal back then, everyone who was in the model horse hobby had a lot of photos, and photo albums. Most were for showing, but some were for reference: we didn’t have a lot of written reference material to go by then, either. Photos were often the only evidence we had that anything existed at all. I was in the hobby for seven years before I ever saw a Decorator in person!

I have no idea how many albums or photos Marney had; I know there are other albums in the possession of others. My most recent batch came from a mostly-retired hobbyist who knew Marney and assisted her family with the dispensation of her estate.

Will there be more to come? Maybe. I have enough to keep me occupied for a while yet, and I understand how hard it is for some people to give up their ephemera. You start sifting through the old fliers, newsletters and photographs, and suddenly a whole afternoon has vanished…

As I mentioned last time, I did digitize one album already, in its entirety. It’s the one I think would be of most interest and value to other hobbyists: it’s primarily Test Colors and Oddities, some of which have since been tracked down and identified. I’ll release this as a CD at some point. (If anyone can give me pointers on how to go about that, it’d be much appreciated.)

What I’ll digitize from the rest, I do not know. The other albums and photos are a mix of everything: photos of bog-standard Original Finish models, Live Show photos, Test Colors, Customs, and (in this most recent pile of stuff) factory photos from ca. 1985/6.

Some of it will be of major interest to hobbyists, and some of it will not: they’ll need more careful editing and curation, at the very least. Like some of my other materials that I’d like to make available to the public, there may be some "showrights" issues that need to be worked out in advance.

It’s getting late, and the weather will be perfect for flea marketing Sunday, so more on this topic next time.

Time to Revise My Grail List

Instead of kvetching about the timing of another new release that I want that I can’t buy right now (the Warehouse Find Chestnut Western Prancing Horse) I will instead sigh wistfully over a model I never knew I wanted, and that I know I will never have:

A Proud Arabian Mare painted almost identically to the Splash Spot Leopard Appaloosa Western Prancing Horse. Oh, you beautiful creature you!

This photo is from another one of Marney Walerius’s photo albums, a recent acquisition for the archives. There’s no identification material on the back of the photo, and it’s unlike most of the others in the album in terms of style, size and focus. So who or what it is, is a mystery.

My initial reaction was that it might not even be Original Finish at all - an early BHR Repaint, perhaps - but the photo was found in an album that consists entirely of Original Finish Breyers. Marney must have believed (or known) it to be OF as well.

While it’s possible that they could have used an Old Mold Mare body to test a paint job for the Western Prancer - the Mare was discontinued ca. 1960, the WPH introduced ca. 1962 - it seems more likely to me that it’d be a Test of the Proud Arabian Mare rather than the Old Mold Mare.

First of all, there are a number of photos of other actual Test Colors of the PAM in another of Marney’s  albums, while Old Mold Mare Tests (and variations) are exceedingly rare. Second, there’s the matter of timing: the PAM was introduced in 1971/2, and the Appaloosa WPH was in production through 1973. 

Where this model is now is also a mystery, but that can be said for many of the models contained in these albums. A number of the Tests in these albums have turned up over the years - and I even managed to identify one I had purchased myself, recently. So I am not completely without hope.

Just without room in the budget. Darn you, car payments and doctor bills!

Easter Eggs

Spent the Easter weekend cleaning up the yard, and the office. When either endeavor began to frustrate, I had another one of my "Why isn’t this one done yet?" quilt projects to distract me.

Once all three projects are completed, I’ll move on to BreyerFest stuff.

I made good progress on all three because I’ve been trying to limit the computer time. Just too many aggravating hobby personalities and situations I don’t want to deal with, even in the most passive ways.

Except for one. While I don’t have a vested interest in any of the locations for next year’s NAN, as it is unlikely that I’d be able to attend regardless, I am extremely curious to see how the current NAMHSA crisis du jour turns out.

I have had my issues with NAMHSA - I think they spend too much time focusing on an end result (the "Big Show") and not enough time focusing on foundational issues (like the reason and purpose of The Show in the first place). Some of the individuals in charge have occasionally fallen into my personal "don’t want to deal with" group.

Yet curiously, and unlike a lot of hobbyists, I think everything will be fine in the end. The existence of dysfunction is not the problem: stuff happens, no matter how much or how well you plan. How the dysfunction is dealt with is the truer measure of judging an organization's viability.

Maybe I’m a little inured to some of the drama because I’ve been in the hobby long enough to have seen most of it before. I’ve also dealt with similar issues in other interests of mine and know it is not unique to us. (Google "SFWA Controversies" if you want to see some real hair-raising stuff. And today, apparently, the 2014 Hugo nominations. Yikes!)

You made it this far with my pontificating, so here are a couple of pictures from Marney’s Album, as conciliatory Easter Eggs. Notice anything odd about them?

No socks! There are a number of photos of Woodgrains in the album, all taken around the same time frame (1970-1971). While some of the pieces are undoubtedly true Production Runs, these two pictures - and a few others - make me wonder if these were Test Colors, or something, on Marney’s part.

Woodgrains had been largely discontinued at that point - only the Fighter remained in production by 1970 - but we know that Special Run Woodgrains were being made in the late 1960s and into the early 1970s for the Dunning Industries Ranchcraft line.

It’s hard to identify those later Special Run Woodgrains, absent their presence on lamps, because there’s no way of distinguishing them from earlier releases. We only know that Non-Fighting Stallion Woodgrains were manufactured (and not simply pulled from warehouse backstock) after 1966/7 because Running Mare and Foal lamps can be found with USA marks, as well as Woodgrains of molds that simply didn’t exist prior, such as the Polled Hereford Bull.

All of the other Woodgrains in the album are on molds that had been released as Woodgrains before, so they could all be items from her collection that she had picked up elsewhere.

Yet there are other photos in the album of pieces that are clearly attempts at reproducing vintage molds in vintage colors, like the Old Mold Mares I’ve mentioned here before.

There will never be any definitive proof unless one of those album pieces does show up - and only if it has a USA mark. I haven't seen or heard of any so far, but I’ve seen a lot of unlikely things, especially lately.