Things We Used To Collect Without Realising It

Most people would probably say they weren’t collectors when they were growing up.

They didn’t have display cabinets full of rare objects. They weren’t spending weekends at collectors’ fairs. They didn’t have spreadsheets keeping track of everything they owned.

And yet, if you’re Gen X, there’s a very good chance you accumulated quite a collection of things.

You just didn’t call it collecting.

You called it keeping stuff.

Some of it was valuable. Most of it wasn’t. Some of it eventually ended up in a drawer, cupboard or box in the loft.

But at the time, every little item seemed worth hanging on to.

Bus and train tickets

A day out often produced a ticket.

Bus tickets.

Railway tickets.

Tube tickets.

Perhaps a ticket from a particularly memorable journey.

You’d put them in a pocket, wallet or school bag.

You might have forgotten about them completely.

Years later, you’d find one and suddenly remember exactly where you were going.

Concert tickets

If you were lucky enough to see your favourite band, the ticket was more than just proof you’d paid to get in.

It was a souvenir.

You might stick it in a scrapbook, put it inside an album sleeve or simply keep it somewhere safe.

Before digital tickets, the little piece of card was part of the memory.

Cinema tickets

Going to the cinema was another opportunity to acquire a tiny souvenir.

The ticket would go into your pocket.

You’d probably forget about it.

Then months or years later, you’d find it and remember the film, who you went with and perhaps even which cinema you visited.

Football programmes

For football fans, matchday often meant coming home with a programme.

You’d read it before kick-off, during half-time and probably again on the journey home.

If you went to enough matches, you ended up with a collection.

Some people carefully preserved them.

Others had a pile somewhere that gradually became increasingly difficult to explain.

Stickers

Stickers were everywhere.

You got them from magazines, sweets, shops, events and various promotions.

Some went onto notebooks.

Some went onto bedroom furniture.

Some were carefully saved because they were too good to use.

And some eventually ended up stuck to something that your parents weren’t particularly pleased about.

Football stickers

For a certain generation, football sticker albums were serious business.

You didn’t just collect the stickers.

You traded them.

You swapped duplicates at school.

You negotiated.

You tried to complete the album.

And there was always one player or team that seemed to be impossible to find.

“Got any swaps?”

That was basically a financial transaction when you were 10.

Panini albums

Football wasn’t the only subject.

Panini and similar sticker collections covered everything from cartoons and television programmes to films and other popular culture.

The excitement wasn’t just about buying a packet.

It was about discovering what was inside.

And then the inevitable:

“Got number 37?”

“No.”

“Number 82?”

“No.”

“Want to swap?”

Coins

Children often collected coins without really knowing why.

You’d look at change and notice something unusual.

A different year.

A coin from another country.

A commemorative design.

A particularly shiny one.

You’d put it somewhere safe.

Then you’d find another.

Before long, you had a little collection.

Foreign currency

Family holidays could produce another accidental collection.

You came home with a few coins left over from Spain, France, Italy or wherever you’d been.

They weren’t worth much.

You couldn’t spend them in Britain.

So they went into a drawer.

Then another holiday came along.

More coins.

Another country.

Another drawer.

Eventually you had a tiny international currency collection.

Shells from the seaside

You couldn’t visit the British seaside without somebody bringing home shells.

They were free.

They were pretty.

And they came from the beach, which made them seem special.

You’d pick the best ones and take them home.

What happened afterwards varied.

Some ended up in a bowl.

Some were used for craft projects.

Some remained in a cupboard for 20 years.

Pogs

For anyone who was around in the 1990s, Pogs were impossible to avoid for a while.

They were small, colourful discs that somehow became enormously collectable.

You swapped them.

Played with them.

Kept your favourites.

And probably had some that you considered far too good to use.

Like many crazes, the obsession seemed to appear overnight.

And then, just as quickly, it disappeared.

Badges

Badges were an easy way to personalise a jacket, bag or school satchel.

Bands.

Football teams.

Political slogans.

Funny sayings.

Charities.

Television programmes.

You’d collect them and then decide where they should go.

The more you had, the more interesting your bag became.

Pencil sharpeners

Somehow, pencil sharpeners became collectible too.

They came in strange shapes.

Animals.

Cars.

Buildings.

Characters.

You might have had several even though you only needed one.

The best ones were often far too interesting to actually use.

Erasers

The same applied to rubbers.

Why have one ordinary rectangular rubber when you could have one shaped like a hamburger?

Or a football?

Or a cartoon character?

You probably had a collection of them sitting in your pencil case.

And some were so decorative that you never wanted to use them.

Keyrings

Every holiday produced another one.

Every tourist attraction had them.

Every football club sold them.

Every souvenir shop had hundreds.

You could attach them to your keys, school bag or pencil case.

Eventually you had so many that the collection itself became the problem.

Fridge magnets

The modern equivalent of the holiday souvenir.

Visit somewhere?

Get a magnet.

Go abroad?

Get a magnet.

Spend the weekend somewhere?

Probably get a magnet.

The difference is that the fridge eventually becomes the display cabinet.

And once there are enough magnets on it, finding somewhere to put the new one becomes surprisingly competitive.

Toy cars

You might not have thought of yourself as a collector.

You simply had toy cars.

One became two.

Two became five.

Then somebody bought you another one.

Before long, you had a fleet.

Matchbox and Corgi cars could provide hours of entertainment and, for some children, a serious collecting obsession.

The best ones weren’t necessarily played with.

They were kept.

Comic books

Comics could be read, swapped and collected.

You might have had a pile next to your bed.

Perhaps you bought the same title every week.

Perhaps you collected different characters.

And if you were particularly organised, you knew exactly which issue you were missing.

Magazines

Music magazines.

Football magazines.

Car magazines.

Computer magazines.

Teen magazines.

TV magazines.

There always seemed to be another publication worth buying.

The problem was what to do with all the old ones.

You couldn’t keep everything.

But throwing them away felt wrong.

So they went under the bed.

Or into the loft.

Birthday cards

This one is slightly different.

You weren’t necessarily collecting them deliberately.

But you might have kept particularly funny, sentimental or unusual cards.

Someone’s handwriting on the inside made them more than just a piece of card.

They became little reminders of people and occasions.

Autographs

Meeting someone famous could produce another accidental collectible.

A signature in an autograph book.

On a programme.

On a photograph.

On the back of something you happened to have with you.

You might not have realised it at the time, but you’d created a small piece of personal history.

Things with your name on them

Personalised objects were oddly exciting.

Pens.

Keyrings.

Badges.

Mugs.

Pencils.

If you found your name printed on something in a shop, there was a very good chance you wanted it.

And if your name was less common?

Good luck.

You might have spent years looking.

The collection that wasn’t supposed to be a collection

Perhaps that’s the most interesting thing.

We didn’t necessarily set out to become collectors.

We simply kept things.

One ticket became five.

One badge became ten.

A few foreign coins became a box.

A handful of stickers became an album.

A couple of football programmes became a shelf.

And eventually, without really noticing, we’d created a collection.

Today, many of these things have been replaced by digital versions.

Tickets live on phones.

Music is streamed.

Photos are stored in the cloud.

Programmes can be found online.

Maps are digital.

Even some collectibles have moved into the virtual world.

But physical objects have one thing that digital collections don’t always have.

They can take you back.

Find an old cinema ticket in a drawer and you don’t just see a small piece of paper.

You remember the film.

The people you were with.

The clothes you were wearing.

The journey there.

Perhaps even what happened afterwards.

That’s why some of the seemingly worthless things we kept as children can become surprisingly precious years later.

What did you collect when you were growing up without ever realising you were actually a collector?