The Glass Animal Collection:
What to do with these cute porcelain puppies after all these years?
Growing up in the 70’s we were part of a “glass animal craze.” Or maybe it was just us. I have no idea, but we amassed quite a collection.
We had these cute gift stores in town like D.W. Curry’s and you could peruse the hundreds of “porcelain” animals - swans on a lake, kittens with a spilled milk bucket, dolphins, horses, you name it. I suppose these were affordable ways to spend a 10 year-old’s allowance or maybe we just liked to admire them on a curio shelf in our bedroom.
I mean, they are cute. We got figurines as keepsakes from trips to Disney or beach vacations. Recently I gifted a friend a really pretty colorful glass rooster. (She asked, I did not foist!) Some are even from my mom’s childhood - a set of 3 grey, fluffy-looking-but-made-of-porcelain dogs, attached by a little chain. We got them as gifts and gave them as gifts and eventually amassed quite a collection.
This brings me to a short, awkward tween sidebar: I have one awkward memory of this glass animal phase. I attended a birthday party for a new girl in school. I was probably 10 or 11. I didn’t know this new friend so I had no idea what she was into. Glass animals had previously been a safe, sweet “girlie” gift. Against my better judgement, I got her some miniature kittens along with something else I can’t recall now. In fact, I completely missed the gift-giving transition-glass animals were now passé and way too young. The other gifts were “bigger girl,” tween-like gifts, like necklaces, earrings or lip gloss and I was stuck handing over a little-girl gift. I was mortified but the party went on and probably no one gave it a third thought, but I still recall my embarrassment at not realizing that phase had come and gone and I was left behind.
Even today, forty years on, we have probably 100 of these little creatures still keeping us company. Sadly, no one wants to admire them anymore, let alone dust them or move them out of the way to dust the dresser. My daughters selected several from our collection growing up but they no longer have a desire for them either. So the cuties wait, in storage, for their day in the sun to arrive.
I was searching for the glass animals one day. As I was digging through plastic bins in the (two-twin-bed) guest room, I came across two old-style Bolla wooden wine gift boxes. We likely received these filled with wine gifts from my dad’s work associates in the 80's and they have provided storage services ever since. I mean, they are nice boxes! “Glass Animals” is written boldly across the top. “Ooh!” I thought. “Yay! Let’s take a look inside,” obviously thinking I’d find glass animals.
Watch my short video for a real-time reveal!
Inside the wine storage crates were several styrofoam egg cartons labeled “Kirsten’s glass animals” and “Kari’s glass animals.” Judging from my sister’s penmanship, these are decades old.
When I opened said egg cartons, they were empty. This was crushing. Where were they? However, in an advanced organization strategy, each egg indentation was numbered. Presumably there was once a key that told you which porcelain dog and which glass cat went in which spot. I am not sure why this mattered but it must have.
So, if the boxes and the labelled egg cartons are empty, where have all the little animals gone?
Thankfully, I found most of the animals in a different plastic bin nestled in their wooden hanging display cases.
So, what to do with all of these little treasures now that I’ve found them?
They are sentimental so we certainly don’t want to throw them out, or give them to the Goodwill, heaven forbid. I mean, one of them could be worth something! We don’t know any little girls that might want them.
Recently, my mom and I visited a miniatures store in San Diego - we loved dollhouses and miniatures growing up. It was a fun memory lane trip and low and behold, these folks will sell your glass animals at their miniature shows. You’d probably be lucky to get a few dollars for them, but at least they’d go to a place where they’d be appreciated.
Visiting the miniatures store together or listening to my mom tell me which ones
were hers as a girl give meaning to these little guys.
Again we are stymied by the “what are they worth” question. In dollars? Really nothing. Are they even worth the mental or physical space they occupy? At what point do we send them off to the next phase of their journey to bring a little joy to someone else and a little mental space to us?
I confess: I took a few porcelain puppies home and they sit on my dresser, smiling up at me with love.
