I didn’t set out to become a collector. In fact, it all started rather unremarkably during a high school math class in grade 11. Sitting at my desk, bored out of my mind, I fished a deck of blue Bicycle cards out of my backpack. The red version always felt too bold for me—blue had a calming charm.
As I shuffled the deck, I remembered a few simple card tricks my godfather had shown me years ago. When I got home that day, I rummaged through our shelves and found an old, dusty book on card tricks. It must’ve been a gift from him. I learned a few tricks and started performing for friends at school. I’ll never forget the way their faces lit up with wonder—the kind of wide-eyed, childlike joy that you rarely see once you’ve grown up. That moment of awe hooked me. I dove deeper into magic, eventually mastering sleight-of-hand techniques so good they fooled even my own eyes.
When I started looking around for magic shops, I saw one in midtown and decided to take the little cash I had to explore what else was out there in the world of card magic. The moment I stepped into the shop, I was captivated. Amid all the crazy and elaborate magic tricks and contraptions, there was a cabinet filled with playing cards. And there it was—the “Black Tiger” deck—just sitting there, screaming at me. Sleek, bold, and mysterious, it whispered, What else is out there? Without hesitation, I forked over my cash and walked out with it, along with two other decks.
That single moment planted a seed of curiosity, not just about playing cards but about design as a whole. Around the same time, I was taking my first-ever graphic design course in high school. Until then, design felt like it belonged to milk cartons and uninspired business cards. But combining the creativity of that deck with the possibilities of design cracked my world wide open.
Collecting playing cards isn’t just about acquiring objects; it’s about collecting experiences, inspiration, and emotions. Every deck feels like opening a new book or starting a new video game—a portal to a different world.
Take the “Piracy Deck” by Theory11 and Peter McKinnon, for instance. Its high-fantasy pirate theme sparked an instant connection. As I held the cards, I began imagining the stories of rogue captains, hidden treasures, and epic sea battles. It wasn’t just a deck—it was a springboard for my creativity, breathing life into stories waiting to be told.
But it’s not just the themes that excite me; it’s the design. While I have a deep appreciation for intricate, ornamental styles, I’m equally drawn to thematic decks that prioritize storytelling over visual extravagance. Each design decision—from the typography to the palette—is a lesson in how to evoke emotion and build narrative cohesion. The openness and depth of various themes can really spark some inspiring curiosity. It's incredible how your mind will fill in the gaps if it's given a good enough starting point.
For me, collecting is deeply personal. Each deck in my collection reflects a part of my creative journey. Beyond the aesthetic appeal, they’ve taught me valuable lessons about myself and the world around me.
First, there’s the thrill of the hunt. Researching, comparing, and planning to acquire a rare deck taps into our primal hunter instinct. It’s exhilarating to track down a grail deck—like the time I found the elusive “Tavern on the Green” deck. That sense of anticipation builds excitement, and when you finally hold that treasure in your hands, it feels like a triumph.
Curating a collection also provides a sense of control in a chaotic world. In the overwhelming noise of daily life, having a space that’s entirely yours—a collection that you’ve thoughtfully built—brings a sense of order and purpose.
What’s more, the process of collecting fosters self-discovery. Repeatedly being exposed to your collectibles helps you understand your own preferences and reflect on your choices. Over time, I noticed my love for Victorian and Art Deco styles shining through in my collection, mirroring my design sensibilities. It’s a revelation of self, captured in tiny, intricate canvases.
Finally, collecting connects you with others. Trading and bartering within the community fosters engagement, creating opportunities to share stories, build networks, and even strike up new friendships. It’s a reminder that collecting isn’t just about the objects—it’s about the people and the stories you share along the way.
If you’re a creative considering starting a collection, here are some tips I’ve picked up along my journey:
The thrill begins with that “wow” moment. For me, it was the “Black Tiger” deck. Find that first deck that resonates with you (or whatever it is that you are into)—it could be the design, theme, or even a fleeting feeling.
Seeing other collections can be inspiring and clarifying. When I came across a collection of over 500 decks, I was impressed but also realized it wasn’t for me. That experience reinforced my desire to keep my collection intentional and meaningful.
My collection began with just three decks. That was enough to ignite my curiosity and help me decide where I wanted to go next. Start with a few pieces you love and build from there.
Hunting for rare decks is still of the most exciting aspects of collecting for myself. It adds a layer of adventure to the journey, turning it into a treasure hunt. Trust me, it will be one of the greatest fuel sources to maintaining interest in this never ending journey.
Display your collection and make it a part of your daily life. In my studio, I have several areas where I showcase my decks—from a main wall to smaller vignettes all around my book shelves featuring limited-edition sets. These displays inspire me and keep my collection alive.
Collecting playing cards has been more than a hobby for me—it’s been a journey of self-discovery and creative expression. Each deck is a piece of art, a story, and a lesson. Whether it’s the intricate detailing of a gothic deck or the imaginative world-building of a pirate-themed set, every card inspires me to push my creative boundaries.
If you’re considering starting a collection of your own, my advice is simple: begin with what excites you. Whether it’s playing cards, books, or something else entirely, the act of curating a collection can become a deeply personal and fulfilling journey.
Let your collection tell a story—not just about the objects themselves, but about you. And if you ever want to dive deeper into the world of playing cards, design, or creativity, join me on Twitch or in our Discord community. I’d love to hear your stories and see your collections. After all, the best part of collecting is sharing it with others.
