Gran Cavallo

Clarification: while I did have a VIP ticket, I had an additional All-Access BreyerFest ticket as well. 

With the way the aftermarket is at the moment, I think getting selected for any random Breyer web drawing is simply not going to happen. But entering every one that I’m at least eligible for will at least increase my chances of getting picked for something eventually, however infinitesimally. 

And I didn’t get picked, which is fine. I may end up buying a few extra of the Store Specials for a newer coworker’s daughter; neither one of them knew that BreyerFest has been online the past two years. 

(No really, they had no idea. I find it a little hard to believe as well, but it’s a good reminder that dedicated hobbyists do essentially live in a bubble.)

But I did manage to push through my inventory and hit my target goal (halfway!) so I finally opened my Second Chance Sale box:

Alas, no Purple Paso for me, but I love my Gran Cavallo anyway. Actually, he might even be my second favorite BreyerFest Special Run this year, after Uffington and slightly ahead of Seurat. In fact, I think if I had seen him firsthand at BreyerFest prior to purchasing, I may have gone with him over the Surprise model, instead. 

Peruvians tends to be a bit more conservatively colored than other South and Central American breeds, and most of the mold’s past releases have reflected that. He reminds me a lot of the Seal Bay auction piece with the ermine spots, one of my favorite BreyerFest auction pieces ever.

Breyer and the Fidelity Swap

In case you haven’t caught the clues, I haven’t exactly been on board with these BreyerFest-by-invitation only events. I haven’t even entered for any of them - the original in 2002, the VRE, or the LSE. I can only afford one big even a year, and I have to go with the one that gives me the biggest all-around payoff, emotionally and financially. And that’s BreyerFest.

I have been trying my best to avoid the LSE discussions; I have better things to do than moon over models I'll never hope to own. Unlike the very vocal minorities trolling the boards, I actually like most of the specials that have been announced. Chestnut is very flattering on the Roxy mold, the Halloween Horse is very clever, and I try not to think about the Smart Chic Olena too much, because I had been hoping that a(n affordable) leopard appaloosa release would be in his future someday.

I like the Peruvian, too, but he is a bit too close to the Cobrizo and the possible future Collector’s Choice Roan, but that could just be Reeves’s photography getting in the way again. The possibility of him being even more awesome in person is also something I’d rather not contemplate.

What I’m finding yucky is the sight of hobbyists falling over each other to step to the mike and proudly, defiantly proclaim how much they dislike all of the releases so far. Just a few years ago, most hobbyists would have been rolling around on the floor in paroxysms of joy over a model like Mudflap. Now they can barely contain their glee over their disdain.

Some of it is just a self-defense mechanism: better to rationalize a reason not to want something, than mope about it being unaffordable or inaccessible. (You know, it’s perfectly okay to mope every once and a while, too. Being happy all the time isn’t any better than being a perpetual mopey-dope.)

But I think an interesting new theory called the "Fidelity Swap" might explain what’s going on here.

As theorized by business writer Kevin Maney in the recently published Trade-Off: Why Some Things Catch On, and Others Don’t, businesses have to decide if their product or service will focus on Fidelity or Convenience. Fidelity is about quality, exclusivity, snob appeal, and bragging rights. Convenience is about affordability, availability, and ease. The tension between these two competing idea is the "Fidelity Swap."

The most successful products and services are either high in Fidelity or high in Convenience, but not both. Companies that try to achieve both are less likely to succeed: it confuses and frustrates the consumer. Consumers who prefer Convenience will be disappointed when the company produces products they find unaffordable and/or unavailable, and the consumers who prefer Fidelity will be disappointed by the lack of exclusivity or higher quality.

Sound familiar?

It’s pretty obvious I’m in the Convenience camp: of course I want my horses to be of better-than-average quality, and I am not immune to the snob appeal a rarer or prettier-than-average model brings to the herd. But I am very frustrated when models become so limited in distribution, or so expensive in price, that any hope of achieving those models approaches zero.

And there’s been a lot of those kinds of models lately. A lot.

Part of the appeal of the hobby to me was in its affordability: I could have the ginormous herd of my dreams with minimal expense, little acreage, and no vet bills. (My teenage fantasy ranch, by the way, was located in Wyoming. I’m not sure why: it just was. Oh, the elaborate facilities I drew up!) So when I see people forking over enormous sums of money for these models - and complaining that a 100 piece SR isn’t exclusive enough for them - well, it runs counter to what my notions of the hobby are.

There really aren't that many hobbyists out there that can afford the high fidelity models, and that's part of the problem: having a special class of folks who end up with the majority of the rarities is a recipe for resentment.

The second thing that might happen - that is actually happening with the Connoisseur models at this point - is model fatigue, or boredom. Connoisseurs aren't perceived as being rare or exclusive enough anymore. Any SR that breaks three digits isn't rare or exclusive enough anymore.

Honestly, I can’t see anything that would make them happy, short of giving them all test colors and made-to-order factory customs. And here I thought we had at least all agreed to make fun of the Peter Stone business model, not admire it, right?

Intentional, or Accident?

Something short and sweet today – I'm in the middle of an unusually heavy work week, and I'll have to be heading out the door here in a moment.

I haven't been picking up a lot at the flea market lately – there have been good models, and cheap models, but I've had to watch my pennies more closely than usual. I did get a super-nice El Pastor/Paso Fino Desperado yesterday, though. Slightly yellowed, but otherwise dead mint: not something you'd normally see in your average flea market model. He might even be better than my personal Desperado, but I haven't had time to take him off the shelf to compare.

The El Pastor mold has been overshadowed for some of the newer, flashier and manlier Spanish molds, especially the Peruvian Paso and Alborozo. He definitely deserves a little more attention than he's been getting of late: as many of you already know, he has a fascinating and complicated mold history. but that'll have to wait for another day when I'm not so crushed for time.

Instead, let's look at one really interesting El Pastor: it's a 735 Paso Fino in Blue Roan, made from 1998 through 2000.


In case you didn't immediately notice, he's rather different than your standard Blue Roan Paso Fino, who looks more like this. (Actually, there are two rather subtle but distinct variations of the standard paint job too, but I plan on including them in an extensive post about subtle variations in the near future.)


I spotted this oddity on eBay several years ago, still in his original box and everything, so I knew he was authentic. You see mistakes from time to time – socks missing, socks on the wrong legs, the wrong color hooves – but this goes beyond basic painter oopsies: it looks intentional.

It's possible that he's just one of those errors-by-omission: you see those from time to time too. An error-by-omission means that the model missed a stop in the painting process: the eyes aren't painted, the hooves aren't painted, or maybe some handpainted detail like chestnuts or eyewhites were missed.

In most of those cases, though, the mistake is quite obvious: those models look unfinished. My Blue Roan Paso Fino doesn't look unfinished, though that just might be a happy accident of the painting process. Maybe the tan shading on the hooves was undershading that would have been mostly oversprayed when they finally got around to finishing up his legs. (The legs are often – but not always – the last part of the model to be painted.)

Or he could have been intentional: there were reports of other variations of other models from that time period that were subsequently confirmed to be intentional, such as the small batch of 767 Glossy Black Proud Arabian Foals. And we still hear about variations cropping up on more recent models, too, in spite of the fact that Reeves has assumed tighter controls on the painting process. Some of them are accidents, presumably of miscommunication (both language, and distance) or of old-fashioned painter error. We know some of the more plentiful ones (in spite of mild protestations to the contrary) are most definitely of the intentional variety, especially the recent glossy variations. (They see how crazy collectors get when a little bit of gloss is involved.)

I don't know the true origins of my Blue Roan Paso Fino: was he truly a mistake, or was he an intentional one? I haven't seen any others like him, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything. I just happened to notice him at the right moment. That's how it is with most variations.

Zippo = Zeppo?

I haven’t had much time to finish some of the posts I’ve been working on, so you’ll be getting another insubstantial one today. Some long, meaty posts are in the pipeline, I promise. Writing is the one thing that’s been keeping me modestly sane over the past few not so awesome weeks. (Not getting actual carrot cake for my birthday this week was one of the lesser disappointments. Sigh.)

Man, I just knew the Quarterfest SR was going to be a Zippo. Rats! A really neat color on a mold I really happen to like. I know not a lot of hobbyists think the same way: sometimes I refer to Zippo as "Zeppo," the underappreciated fourth Marx Brother. He’s not as flashy as the Smart Chic Olena, as versatile as the Lady Phase, and he doesn’t possess the homely, old-fashioned charm of the Quarter Horse Gelding.


But I do think he’s a sleek, well-executed mold who just happens to be a snappy dresser. He looks good in almost any color: solids, pintos, dilutes, appaloosas. I have a lot of them, but not all of them: my favorite is a preproduction Zip’s Chocolate Chip, in a surprisingly rich shaded bay. (I also admit to a weakness for ermine spots. The sight of striped and speckled toes makes me squee. And I don’t, normally.)


You can’t say that for every model. Case in point: the current crop of Collector’s Choice models. Kudos to Reeves with going with the solids on two of the selections - and both of them look sharp in those colors, too! Overall, I think the Palomino on the Bluegrass Bandit is the "best fit" of color with mold, but I love roan paint jobs in general, and on the Peruvian…

Well, I’d buy the Peruvian in just about any color, but that’s another story. And don’t even speak to me about the Dark Bay BreyerFest auction Peruvian with the profuse ermine spots from a few years back. Not many models make me cry, and that one came too darn close.

But the Keltic Salinero? Tobiano doesn’t suit him. I wasn’t overly fond of the VRE Hollywood Boulevard, either. Now I though he was pretty smashing in overo as the 2007 BreyerFest raffle model Tacoma, so do think he could look good in a parti-color paint job. But the tobiano patterns they’ve used so far haven’t worked for me. They visually "break up" his elegant silhouette, which I think is the mold’s strongest suit.

Sadly, I think - despite Blab’s best efforts to the contrary - the Salinero is the frontrunner in this race. Because, just like in the real horse world, being flashy gives you the edge.

I thought the delay in releasing the pertinent details of the Zippo SR was actually a rather smart move - a nice, subtle way of building anticipation and enthusiasm in the hobbyist community. All too often Reeves will release the information on a special release a little too early, and hobbyists will spend the time between the press release and the actual release date nitpicking it to death. I really hate those kind of discussions in general, since they tend to turn so mean, and unproductive, so quickly.

I sure hope I can manage to snag that Quarterfest Zippo somehow. Doesn’t seem likely at the moment, but we’ll have to see how it all shakes out in terms of quantity, distribution and overall hobby desire.