Betting on the Ponies

I suppose that all collectibles have their speculators -- people who buy certain items in the hope of selling them for a profit at some future date.  But it's a risky business.

Just as, when you invest in the stock market, you're banking on being able to buy low and sell high, the same risks apply to investments in art, comic books, baseball cards, and model horses.

But I can't say that I really understand the sort of model horse collector who views collecting as a profit-making venture.   I have to confess that I don't know anyone who has actually said to me that they buy model horses in the hopes of reselling them for considerably more than what they pay.  But when I see pieces being advertised on eBay for significantly higher than their retail price, even before they have been released, I can't help but conclude that the model in question is being sold by a model horse speculator.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this.  A lot of model horse collectors find it satisfying to use the hobby to generate extra income for even more hobby pursuits.  That's one reason why many people develop skills as tack and prop makers, doll makers, customizers, photographers, etc. -- they use their talent in these areas to make the money they need to grow or show their collections.  Speculating on the model horse market is just another way of doing this.

It just seems to me to be a much riskier thing to do.  As conventional wisdom has it, a model horse is worth only as much as someone is willing to pay for it.  If you buy a model for investment purposes only, you risk finding yourself without a buyer.  This is one very good reason to "buy only what you love" -- you may end up living with it for a very long time.

This Shetland pony is NOT solid gold.

Tastes in equine miniatures go through fads.  At one time you can't give away a certain model, and then there will be a sudden demand for it.  I've heard that Breyer's Khemosabi model was in high demand for a while, although I'm not sure what fueled that demand or how long the frenzy lasted.  At any rate, if you had a Khemosabi that you wanted to sell, and you missed that bit of market madness, you might still have that Khemosabi on your shelves today.  Timing is everything, and no one can count on making a profit by selling any model at any point in time.  It's a gamble, and the only way to stack the odds in your favour is to try to ensure that every model that you buy is one that you wouldn't mind keeping.

Admittedly, Breyer has recently made this kind of collecting harder with their three collector clubs: Premier, Vintage, and Stablemate.  In order to get all the offerings in each club each year, you have to purchase all the models being offered that year, whether you like them or not.  

Fortunately, Breyer usually reveals the first model up for sale in both the Premier and Vintage clubs, and the first few molds up for sale in the Stablemate club before the deadline to join each club has passed.  This allows the collector to make a somewhat informed decision about the desirability of joining each club.

Intriguingly, though, there aren't as many collector club horses on the secondary market as you might think.  Most collectors who join these clubs seem very satisfied with their purchases -- perhaps because you have to have an inherent interest in Premier, Vintage, or Stablemate models to be tempted to join one of these clubs in the first place.

The leads me to the thing puzzles me most about model horse speculation: I find it difficult to believe that it's a very satisfying way of collecting.  When I used to show my models, it made me happy to have some good show horses on my shelves.  Now that I merely collect it makes me happy just to look at the horses on my shelves, to admire the artistry that attracted me to them in the first place, and to remember how and why I came to own them.  I find this immensely satisfying.

If I sold every horse I owned that I could make a profit on, all I would have left is a little more room on my shelves and a sense of regret that I let something I loved go.  The only way to fix that would be to buy something I didn't love but, as I've already noted, it's never a good idea to do that.

This model horse is now worth many times what I paid for it (which was nothing -- I won her in a contest), but I would hate to sell her.

  Selling beloved models in order to raise cash for unexpected expenses -- family troubles, financial troubles, natural disasters and the like -- is a different kind of selling, and although the regret of losing a piece may be the same, the satisfaction of having been able to help out in a desperate situation should allay the regret to some extent.  But due to the same market risks that affect investors, counting on your collection as your insurance policy is probably not your best bet either.

I'll say it again -- buy what you love.  For my money, you cannot do better than that.