There was a time when I absolutely loved Funko Pops.
Finding a new one I wanted was exciting.
Finding one on sale?
Even better.
Finding some random exclusive or expensive Pop for way less than it normally sold for?
Oh hell yeah.
I collected Pokémon. I collected Avatar: The Last Airbender. I collected video game characters. Basically, if I liked something and Funko made a tiny plastic version of it with an enormous head…
There was a decent chance I wanted it.
I even got my wife into collecting them.
She started getting Harry Potter Pops and some other ones she liked.
It was fun.
And then, at some point, things got a little out of hand.
One Funko Becomes 100 Really Fucking Fast
This is the problem with Funko Pops.
They’re small.
At least that’s what you tell yourself.
“It’s just one little box.”
Sure.
Until there are 40 of those little boxes.
Then 80.
Then 100.
Then you’re buying shelves specifically to hold the little boxes.
Eventually my office walls were basically covered in Funko Pops.
And for a while?
I loved it.
I’d look around and see characters from games, shows, and franchises that I loved.
It made the office feel like my space.
But eventually something changed.
I Looked Around and Thought… Why Do I Have All This Shit?
One day I looked around my office and realized something.
These weren’t really making me happy anymore.
They were just…
there.
Hundreds of little black eyes staring at me while I tried to write code.
Pikachu judging my architecture decisions.
Aang watching me introduce another bug.
Some video game character silently wondering why I’ve spent 45 minutes debugging something that turned out to be a typo.
It started feeling less like a collection and more like I was working inside a very colorful warehouse.
And that’s when I realized:
I think I’m done with Funko Pops.
The Hunt Was Almost More Fun Than Owning Them
Looking back, I think one of my favorite parts was actually finding them.
Seeing a Pop I didn’t have.
Finding a great deal.
Coming across one I’d been looking for.
That little rush of:
“Oh shit, they have this one!”
was probably more exciting than actually bringing it home.
Because once I bought it?
It went on the shelf.
Then I went looking for the next one.
And the next one.
And apparently the next 150.
At some point I stopped collecting things I really loved and started collecting because…
Well…
I collected Funko Pops.
That’s just what I did.
Getting Rid of Them Felt Weird
There’s also something strange about getting rid of a collection you’ve spent years building.
You remember where some of them came from.
You remember finding a ridiculous deal.
You remember being excited when a certain one finally showed up.
Some of them have actual memories attached to them.
So part of my brain says:
“You can’t get rid of that!”
And then the other part looks at the giant wall of plastic heads and says:
“Kevin, you have a fucking problem.”
The second voice is becoming increasingly convincing.
I Don’t Hate Funko Pops
The funny thing is, I still like them.
There are some that I think are genuinely cool, and I’m sure I’ll keep a handful of favorites.
I’m not suddenly declaring that Funko Pops are stupid or that nobody should collect them.
I had a lot of fun collecting them.
That’s enough.
A hobby doesn’t have to last forever for it to have been worthwhile.
But I’ve realized that owning more stuff doesn’t automatically make me enjoy the stuff more.
At some point, the collection itself became clutter.
And when I looked around my office, instead of thinking:
“Damn, this collection is awesome.”
I started thinking:
“Jesus Christ, where did all these fucking things come from?”
Spoiler:
I bought them.
All of them.
Apparently I’m Becoming Responsible
So it’s time for a lot of the Funko Pops to go.
Sell them.
Give some away.
Keep the ones that actually mean something to me.
Clear off the walls.
Make the office feel a little less like a GameStop exploded inside it.
It’s actually kind of refreshing.
I’m sure my wife is thrilled that I’ve finally reached this conclusion.
Although she probably shouldn’t celebrate too quickly.
Because all that newly available shelf space could fit a surprising amount of networking equipment.
And I’ve been wanting a server rack.
So really…
I’m not getting rid of a hobby.
I’m just reallocating infrastructure.
Anyone else ever build a massive collection only to suddenly realize you were completely done with it?
What did you collect, and what finally made you say:
“Okay, I have way too much of this shit.”
