 |  |
|
Car Collectors - you've reached your limits. As time progresses, looking back at the vehicles of 30 years ago will only yeild you ugly, utilitarian, un-collectible hunks of metal. You think there's something collectible -- tell me one collection-worthy car since 1975. There aren't any. The theory is that the Baby Boomers were the last group of customers willing to buy a car purely because it's a gut-rumbling, beautiful piece of machinery. Increasing costs, safety requirements, and environmental effects have bred the Generation Xers without the gene for buying a car worth keeping for 40 years. You young'uns laugh at the astronomical number while you drive your practical, safe Toyotas -- but, remember, the venerable Ford Mustangs you see on the road have hit that mark and are still going. Have you driven a car in the last 20 years that you'd want to be seen driving in 2020?  There's a Christmas Fad that's going to be the biggest money one of them all: those elaborate ceramic villages have been growing and growing into metropolitan sprawls, bringing attention to those people willing to play SimCity with their front room each December. Public Access Television around here has even aired feature-length television shows made up entirely of panning shots of some obsessive collector's layout. It used to be that basement-dwelling model railroaders were the ones arranging little plastic people in Main Street vignettes, but it's moved from the basement into the public eye. The difference is: polystyrene railroad buildings don't have a big resale market. Department 56's Snow Village has a srtong collector's market with a big 'retired' catalog of more sought after items. Despite all this, the Snow Village collectors rarely get labeled as crazies, unlike the Beanie Baby folk. Go figure -- all I know is I'm inheriting the Apothecary from my grandma, because I know what apothecary means.
 A collection market that's not growing is stolen items. Once you've stolen a gigantic Spongebob from Burger King, there's not a lot you can do with it. 50 of 'em have gone missing -- but why? Personally, the giant Shreks from earlier this fall were much cooler. But -- it's not like you could ever inflate it, because you'd be immediately caught. You couldn't sell it, because there's not that many places you could have gotten a giant inflatable cartoon character in the first place. I suppose, were one to fold up Spongebob carefully, pack him archivally, your estate could make big bucks when they're cleaning out your house after you've gone to that big pineapple in the sky.  I know, I bubble and gush over the 'found art' sounds and sounds of real people. John Clayton, editor of a new book anonymous: enigmatic images from unknown photographers, has another interesting point of view. His new book is a compilation of untitled and unsigned photographs bought at flea markets. He says,
 I just have to show this photo. No real reason -- it's just to wacky to ignore. Miss Printer and Miss Tattoo were participants in some content, the purpose of which is unknown. Halloween? Media Enlightenment?
 And, finally, the backbone behind a kitschy life is to regress despite the digital, glossy, instant and disposable world we live in. Enter: hand-typeset christmas cards. Bethany Plath inks up her letterpress and manually prints vintage Christmas cards for her customers. On her website, you can see more examples of the style and design. The striking colors and retro shapes have the spark of a Gap ad or Target commercial, with the look of something found in your grandma's hall closet. The old printing presses use hundreds of pounds of pressure to impress on the paper, leaving a tacticle indent on the images. That's not something you'll get on your digitally copies Wal-Mart christmas cards.
|
|
