HO-HO-KUS, New Jersey. Like many American women, Amanda Milner is inexplicably fascinated by the doings of the British royal family, even though she considers herself patriotic. “I have the entire Lady Di action figure set,” the 53-year-old real estate broker says with a laugh. “If there was a Camilla Parker Bowles dart board, I’ll probably get that too.”
Lady Di action figure: “Excuse me, I have to go throw up.”
But she hasn’t had time to pay much attention to the doings of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle lately because she’s been too busy with a quest for a crown of her own; the title of Queen of Tchotchkes, awarded annually by the American Society of Gew-Gaws, the trade association that represents manufacturers of insipid figurines.
So pwecious!
“It would be the crowning achievement–no pun intended–of my collecting career,” Milner says as she indicates by a sweep of her hand her vast collection of Hummels, LLadros and other porcelain knick-knacks that occupy nearly every square inch of horizontal surface in her two-bedroom home here. “But I’m not taking anything for granted,” she adds as she opens her front door to accept a package containing a recent on-line purchase of a “retired” piece from a collector in Seekonk, Massachusetts. “You have to stay on your toes or somebody else will blow right by you.”
Milner’s main competition is Alison Urquart of Camdenton, Missouri, who has used a “small ball” game to advance to the finals. “It’s the collecting equivalent of the West Coast offense with its short passing routes,” says Mikki Schulte, who is following the competition for Collectible Digest. “Alison only has a double-wide trailer to fill, so she picks up yardage in small bites and before you know it she’s on the goal line.”
“Can’t breathe–getting claustrophobic!”
Judges score performance based on the number of tchotchkes per square inch so the size of a collector’s residence is ultimately unimportant. Still, figurine hoarding coaches say in a smaller residence it is easier to achieve an “overstuffed” look that can mean the difference between a 10.0 and a 9.99 score, a slim margin but one that translates into a $250 difference between first prize and a runner-up’s share.
Asked if she plans a big night out with her money if she wins, Milner explains that the prize is payable only as store credit against the purchase of additional figurines. “It’s like a pie-eating contest,” she says, “where the prize is more pie.”