Through the back of the wardrobe...

After visiting the Land of Lost Content I found that collections of historical ephemera were few and far between -- often refuges for stereotyped crackpot enthusiasts, hidden away in backstreets, and focused on wonderfully mundane objects (such as the legendary British Lawnmower Museum or Barometer World).

While researching nostalgic items, one thing that has kept cropping up is the need to find photographic references.  Google Images is all well and good, but a large proportion of photos on the web are post-1990, so finding anything before that period can be difficult.

Then I had a flash of inspiration -- HOME SHOPPING CATALOGUES!

Yes, they're full of clothes & fashion, but they also contain a wealth of period furniture, electronic goods, and toys & games.  A veritable treasure trove of ideas!

As previously established, those grey,
black & red stripes just scream 1980s.

Look at these examples from an old 1977 Argos catalogue -- some cracking nostalgia!  Evel Knievel, Six Million Dollar Man, Starsky & Hutch, an Airfix pontoon bridge and even Super Flight Deck.

However, it was at this stage that I stumbled into a seedy, murky world...

Finding archives of home shopping catalogues is not as straightforward as newspaper or magazines.  I'd expect major libraries to carry historical design journals; the likes of Argos, Littlewoods, Kays, Marshall Ward or Grattan are less likely to grace their shelves.

So I went looking online for individuals who might have odd scans of pages from old catalogues.  What I discovered was a major black market in full catalogue scans.  I kid you not!

Dozens of people scanning catalogues, converting them to PDF and selling them on eBay. A few examples: Freemans 1994, Brian Mills 1997 and even an Argos 1974-1986 compilation.  If you don't believe me, take a look for yourself.  Of course the spurious "public domain" or "copyright permission" claims are all claptrap, but I can't see Home Retail Group wasting their time & money chasing these people with solicitors.

This is not a new concept.  There is a similar huge market for scanned comics, especially those which have never been released digitally by copyright owners.  However, home shopping catalogues are not the kind of thing you can read again-and-again; this is an extremely niche market.

Obtaining paper copies is just as difficult.  A typical paper mid-1990s Kays catalogue goes for around £22.  Wow!  Given that the primary owners of these publications were women, it adds a new irony to the old chestnut "my mum threw out all my old comics and they'd be worth a fortune now".

So, where do I go from here?  Do I spend a fortune obtaining illicit copies of Freemans mail order paperbacks?  Do I join the ranks of uncomfortable-looking men in long coats who furtively pass telephone-directory-sized tomes to each other in back alleys, hoping that nobody is looking?

Thankfully not.

It turns out that there are some official archives of this kind of thing.  Phew!

The Kays Heritage Group has a collection dating from the 1890s to modern day, available for research purposes and housed at the University of Worcester.  Sounds like a good idea for a day trip!