The Collector’s Instinct. Why Do We Collect?

And when does a collection become something else?

Most collections begin innocently enough. You buy one old advertising tin because you like the colours. Then another turns up with particularly good typography. A third is from a company you remember from childhood. Before long, an empty shelf has somehow become the tin shelf — and you are officially a collector.

It could just as easily be vintage perfume bottles, silver spoons, postcards, automobilia, playing cards, jelly moulds, railwayana, old keys, blue glass or miniature chairs. Almost anything can become a collection, and that raises an interesting question: why do we do it?

Why is one object lovely, but five similar objects somehow more satisfying? Why do otherwise perfectly rational people get disproportionately excited about finding a slightly different example of something they already own? Perhaps because collecting is about far more than simply acquiring things.

The Thrill of the Find

Every collector knows the feeling. You are wandering around a flea market, antique fair, charity shop or auction viewing when something catches your eye. At first, there is simply recognition. Then comes the closer inspection. Is it old? Is it right? Have you already got this version? Is the maker interesting? Is that a mark underneath? And — most importantly — how much is it?

Finding something for a collection creates its own peculiar little rush of excitement, and the best finds are not necessarily the most expensive. Ask a serious collector about their favourite object and quite often it will not be the rarest or most valuable piece they own. It will be the one discovered underneath a table at a jumble sale, bought for a few pounds from someone who had no idea what it was, or found after years of searching.

The story of finding it becomes part of the object. Sometimes the hunt is almost more enjoyable than the acquisition itself.

A Collection Gives Things Context

There is also something rather wonderful about seeing similar objects together. One Victorian scent bottle may be beautiful, but put ten different bottles together and suddenly you can see changing fashions in glass, stoppers, labels and packaging.

One old advertising tin is interesting. A shelf full of them becomes a miniature history of graphic design, manufacturing and the products once found in British cupboards. A group of silver objects allows you to compare makers, assay offices and decades of craftsmanship. Playing cards reveal changing fashions in illustration. Old bottles show the evolution of branding. Vintage kitchenalia tells the story of how domestic life has changed.

This is when collecting becomes something more than accumulation. The objects begin to explain one another, and a good collection can become a small, highly personal museum. Unlike most museums, of course, you are allowed to pick everything up.

Collecting Makes Us Learn

One of the unexpected pleasures of collecting is how much knowledge sneaks up on you. Buy your first piece of antique silver and you may know very little about it. A few years later you find yourself peering at three tiny marks and confidently announcing, “Birmingham, 1913,” while everyone else in the room wonders when exactly this happened to you.

Collectors become specialists almost by accident. You start researching makers. You learn about manufacturing techniques, materials, registration numbers, fashions and social history. You discover which reproductions to avoid and which tiny details separate something ordinary from something scarce.

The more you learn, the more interesting the hunt becomes. And there is always another question, another maker, another variation and another object you have never seen before. That endless possibility of discovery is surely part of the attraction.

More Than Things

Collections can also carry enormous emotional value. An object does not have to be financially valuable to be precious. Perhaps your grandmother collected Wade Whimsies and one survives from her cabinet. Maybe your father always carried a particular sort of pen. Perhaps an old biscuit tin reminds you of visiting grandparents, or a certain pattern of china takes you straight back to Sunday tea.

Objects are extraordinarily good at holding memories. We cannot keep a childhood kitchen, a grandparent's house or a particular afternoon from forty years ago, but sometimes we can keep one small thing that takes us back there.

That is why inherited collections can be so difficult to dismantle. To an auctioneer, twenty china dogs may simply be twenty china dogs. To their owner, they may represent decades of birthdays, holidays, conversations and memories. Their emotional value has very little to do with what they would fetch at auction.

Collections Say Something About Us

What we choose to collect can also become part of our identity. Someone collects railway memorabilia because they spent their childhood watching trains with their father. Another person collects Art Deco because they adore the design of the period. Someone else fills the kitchen with old enamelware simply because it makes them happy.

Over time, friends begin to associate us with our collections. “Oh, you like old cameras.” “You collect elephants, don't you?” “I saw this and thought of you.” There is a slight danger there, of course. Mention that you like owls once and you may receive owl-related gifts for the next thirty years.

But there is something rather lovely about being known for an interest. Collections help make our homes individual and tell visitors something about the person who lives there before a word has been spoken.

When Does Collecting Become Hoarding?

This is where things become more complicated. Having a lot of possessions does not automatically make somebody a hoarder, and owning hundreds — or even thousands — of objects does not necessarily mean there is a problem.

A dedicated collector might have an enormous collection. The important difference is less about the number of things and more about our relationship with them.

A collection usually has some form of purpose or boundary. The collector may specialise in a particular maker, subject, period, colour or type of object. Pieces are researched, displayed, catalogued, stored or organised, and the owner can usually explain why something belongs in the collection.

Most importantly, the collection remains part of their life rather than preventing them from living it. Hoarding becomes something quite different when possessions become unmanageable, when someone experiences extreme difficulty discarding them, and when accumulated objects begin to interfere with everyday life — for example, when rooms can no longer be properly used for their intended purpose.

So perhaps the useful question is not simply, “How much stuff have I got?” but rather, “Am I still in charge of my stuff?”

The Collector's Test

For those of us who adore old things — and we certainly include ourselves here — a little self-editing occasionally does no harm. Can you see and enjoy what you own? Can you find things? Do you still have room to live comfortably around them? Do you sometimes sell, donate or pass on pieces that no longer fit your collection?

It can also be worth asking whether you are buying something because it genuinely adds to the collection, or simply because you find it impossible to leave anything behind. And perhaps the most challenging question of all is this: if you saw it today and didn't already own it, would you still buy it?

That one can be surprisingly effective.

Curate Rather Than Accumulate

The best collections evolve. Early pieces are sometimes replaced by better examples. Interests become more specialised. You may begin collecting “anything vintage” and eventually discover that what really fascinates you is 1930s advertising, Victorian silver or mid-century glass.

Letting things go is part of that process. Selling one piece can fund another. Passing something to a new collector allows somebody else to enjoy it. Donating an object can give it another life. A collection does not have to become permanently larger to become better.

Sometimes twenty carefully chosen objects tell a much stronger story than two hundred. There is another advantage too: leave yourself a gap on the shelf, because every collector needs somewhere to put the next great find.

A Very Human Habit

People have collected things for centuries, and it seems unlikely we are going to stop anytime soon. Perhaps that is because collecting brings together so many things we enjoy: curiosity, nostalgia, knowledge, beauty, the excitement of discovery and the satisfaction of bringing order to a small corner of the world.

For antique and vintage lovers, there is something else too. Every addition to a collection represents an object that has survived. It has been noticed, valued and chosen once again.

So whether your collection consists of six beautiful scent bottles or six hundred railway tickets, enjoy it. Research it. Display it. Talk about it. Occasionally edit it. And never underestimate its emotional value simply because somebody else doesn't understand why you need another one.

Collectors already know the answer.

It's not the same as the others.