The new-age phenomenon of internet hype trends, unending short-form media, and bunches of consumer goods have turned collecting into a rather dispassionate experience. Collections originally inspired by a sense of individuality, wonder, and love have, in some cases, become artifacts mostly influenced by algorithm suggestions and a need to be socially accepted. Collecting well-suited things for oneself has now been turned into a chase, trying to keep up with current trends. 

Nobody is immune to this change. The phenomena that can actually display the rapidity with which something can become trendy are those of Sonny Angels or Labubus. Those indifferent to these toys have now found themselves acquiring them because of TikTok hauls, Instagram reels, or YouTube shorts. Attention is now on the aesthetic, and these people jump into the sphere to escape the feeling of missing out or lagging behind. Collecting really is more trend-driven than interest-driven. Every object is not really personal, yet worth being held just because current trends deem it so.

It soon raises the next question: How do we come to discuss whether something like Labubus is worth collecting, where the whole conversation shifts from personal taste to a more collectivist judgment? Somewhere along the way, the whole idea of collecting seems to have become so overly commercialized that it implies a need for validation from the masses. Collecting, in turn, would tell a more personal story, be it a souvenir from travels, a gift from a friend, something that brings joy or nostalgia. Today, many collections are being assembled to maximize display value: how friendly they are from a photographic perspective to respective modern backgrounds, and hence how likely they are to attract attention.

At least some aspect of this commercialization trickles down even to the smallest details. Take the example of bag charms. Before the age of fast fashion, keychains or charms could have been collected along a journey, bought from a street market, or gifted by friends. They were all miniature stories with a connection to all individual experiences; now, such fast-fashion trinkets are bought in bulk and thrown on people’s bags for hasty satisfaction. Sure, there are charms and accessories on that bag, yet there is no memory or meaning attached to any of those items. Most people dump a series of charms after a while as trends change, rather than build a collection slowly over the years.

These trends have had a serious impact, and not just on collecting. Numerous hobbies are slowly becoming commercialized. The display factor is often prioritized over the worth of the hobby itself in various hobbies such as knitting, journaling, vinyl collection, photography, and even gaming. All these hobbies are being butchered by social media, where promotion overshadows experience. Knitting becomes less about doing fulfilling projects and more about creating  Instagram-worthy projects that will reach a lot of likes. In journaling, people care more about having pretty layouts than engaging in meaningful reflection. Even reading is affected by these changes. Due to the rise of Booktok, most people nowadays care about buying books that are aesthetically pleasing and not books that they'll actually enjoy reading. Shelf aesthetics and pretty covers have truly changed the art of reading.

This shift represents a larger consumerist mentality: nothing is of value unless it can be shown, shared, or monetized. The object in itself may not have any true significance or meaning; instead, it gets meaning from the perception of the audience. The collectors who used to feel proud of having been able to discover rare pieces over the years now get satisfaction from counting the likes a photo of that item has been able to attain. Where once passion required a lot of patience, it now seeks instant validation. 

One should wonder what is, in this process, lost to us. For, we lose individuality. A collection used to be something special about its owner, reflecting their personality. These days, many collections look almost the same, shaped by the same algorithms and consumer trends. A shelf lined with hot collectible toys may not be too different from another one, far away. Individual taste tends to merge into a collective blur.

Depth is also lost in that scenario. Slow-paced activities such as gardening, model-building, or stamp collecting require the kind of time and attention that conflicts with our fast-paced modern existence. Yet, it is in that slowness that meaning begins to unfurl. Years spent on a collection diffuse into a tapestry of encounters, interests, and relationships. When this whole narrative gets replaced by impulse online purchases in the name of TikTok trends, the narrative gets reduced to: "I bought something that was trending."

The impact goes down to how we view art-making and creativity. Just like collectors chase trends, audiences are consuming art quicker than ever, skimming over it, scrolling past it, and moving on. In the past, we might perhaps have spent some time with a work, allowing it to challenge, captivate, or arouse emotion. Now, we instead favor the quick snap: a pic, a post, acknowledgment in kind before we move on. The art experience is shaped by what can be staged, not by what can truly be felt.

Not to say that a trend or a shared aesthetic may appear to be inherently negative. There are great joys of shared excitement, finding like-minded people among whom to bond over collections. Nevertheless, all these might detract from that richness that was once found in a collection and hobbies when trend-seeking has overshadowed individuality, speed overtaken by slowness, and appearance overshadowing experience.

May it be about time to bring back personal collections that align with our interests and represent something for us? Collect for your happiness, for yourself; put up articles, not just good-looking ones, but items that tell stories; avoid the pressure of trying to keep up with everything virally trending. In doing so, that hobby or collection can speak again as an act of self-expression and memory-making, rather than lying in some other territory of competition among consumers.

Collecting is not only about things. It's all about time, memory, and meaning. In an age driving us hard into a fast-consuming world, slowing down to make something of one's own personal touch may well be the most radical action. The question remains, for whom do we perform?

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