I didn't set out to become a collector. It started pretty unremarkably, in a grade 11 math class. I was sitting at my desk, bored out of my mind, when I fished a deck of blue Bicycle cards out of my backpack. I can't be the only one who prefers the blue Bicycles, RIGHT!?
As I shuffled, I remembered a few simple tricks my godfather had shown me years before. Somewhere at home, I had an old magic book that looked like it was printed in the late '90s. I honestly don't remember whether he gave it to me or it just found its way into my hands somehow. Either way, I learned a few tricks and started performing for friends at school, and I'll never forget how their faces lit up. It was that wide-eyed, childlike wonder you rarely see once people grow up. That moment of awe hooked me. I'm no master, but I got good enough at sleight of hand to actually entertain people. Looking back, that was one of the first times I stopped and realized something about myself: I love entertaining people.
Eventually I went looking for magic shops and found one in midtown. I took what little cash I had to see what else was out there in the world of card magic. The moment I stepped inside, I was captivated. Among all the elaborate tricks and contraptions was a cabinet full of playing cards, and there it was: the Black Tiger deck. A black deck of cards. It sounds silly now, but it was a revelation. I'd never considered that something as ordinary as a deck of cards could be reimagined and given an artistic spin. Sleek, bold, and mysterious, it made me wonder what else was out there. I didn't even hesitate. I handed over my cash and walked out with it.
That moment planted a seed of curiosity, not just about cards but about design. Around the same time, I was taking my first graphic design course. Until then, design felt like something that belonged to milk cartons and forgettable business cards. Putting the creativity of that deck together with what design could do... that cracked my world wide open.
Three decks turned into a habit. I started browsing other people's collections online, and before long I'd found the companies that made them: The Illusionist, Art of Play, and Theory11. With Theory11, one kind of design language always kept catching my eye: ornamental, gold-foiled, and indulgent in all the right ways.
That's how I found Tavern on the Green. It was already discontinued, long gone and out of reach. The funny thing is, I've never been a fan of green in graphic design (it feels funny saying that :D). But something about that green paired with gold just worked. It felt old, rich, and a little secretive, like the door to a members-only room.
The fact that I couldn't just hand over $15 to $20 and have it the next day made me want it even more. So I went another way and saved up my Theory11 points until I could redeem them for it. When it finally arrived, it didn't feel like a purchase. It felt like a trophy.
Years later, I added the White and Red editions, and now the set is complete. That felt like a true thrill of the hunt. I mean, yes, the object matters, but the pursuit is what made that more special.
You can't be treating collecting as just owning things. Owning without purpose is just... hoarding of sorts. It's more about collecting experiences and inspiration. Every deck feels like opening a new book or starting a new game: a portal to somewhere else.
Take the Piracy deck by Theory11 and Peter McKinnon (Hey Neighbour!). Its high-fantasy pirate theme grabbed me right away. Holding those cards, I started picturing rogue captains, buried treasure, sea shanties and the smell of salt water. It wasn't just a deck. It was a springboard (or a plank? :P).
I love intricate, ornamental work, but I'm just as drawn to decks that put storytelling ahead of decoration. Every choice, from the typography to the palette, is a lesson in how to stir up feeling and hold a story together without actually saying a word. And here's what I've come to believe: give the mind a good enough starting point, and it will fill in the rest.
Looking back, those decks taught me the thing I now do every day. A good deck is a whole world told through an object. You never read its story. You hold it, and you feel it.
That idea is the foundation of The Order of Curiosities. Every label, book, and artifact I design is meant to work the same way: a small, tangible piece of a world that lets your imagination fill in the rest. I didn't know it back in that magic shop, but i guess the Black Tiger was my first lesson in worldbuilding.
Don't collect everything. Collect what makes you stop. Over time, I noticed my love for Victorian, Art Deco, and ornamental gold-foiled styles shaping my collection, and it mirrored my design taste. A theme turns a pile of things into a point of view. It's self-discovery on tiny, intricate canvases. It's a reflection and sometimes an extension of you.
The decks I treasure most are the ones I had to work for. Tavern on the Green wasn't sitting on a shelf. I had to find another way to get it. The hunt adds adventure and keeps the spark going long after the novelty wears off.
Don't keep it in a drawer. In my studio, decks sit on a main wall and in small vignettes around the bookshelves, limited editions included. Seeing them every day keeps them alive and keeps me inspired. Just interact with your collection as often as you need to in order to get the inspiration going.
Whether it's playing cards, books, or something else entirely, start with what excites you. Let your collection tell a story, not just about the objects but about you.
If you'd like to see how a love of small, beautifully designed objects turns into a whole world, come follow along on my YouTube channel. I'd love to hear about your collections too.
For the Spark, For the Story, For the joy of Making.
