I have a pretty good idea of my “to buy” pipeline and I restrict myself to one of these per month. The pipeline is mainly new releases now as I’ve bought more or less all the existing kits I especially want.
For context I have the whole top floor of my house as an enormous modelling studio and have over 500 kits in a sprawling stash that even I am a little embarrassed about.
I keep an eye on the Tiger, Meng, Tamiya, Trumpeter, RFM and Border releases and the vast majority of new releases of all but Trumpeter will end up getting acquired, and I will take a fair few of the Trumpeters as well.
I buy 90% of my kits from dawnsgrocerystore in China, who have superb prices and great service. Usually their prices are so sharp that I can buy a model and have it shipped from China to here in the NL for less than it costs to buy over the counter here.
As long as I’m only buying one or two kits a month, my Mrs wont kick off. More than that and the passive aggressive comments will start and then woe betide me if another one arrives once she’s in a mood about it. One tactic I had to combat this was to get them delivered to my work and then bring them home in a big batch on a day when I know SWMBO wont be home. Alas, I moved jobs so work from home now.
This only works so far though and she has learned to keep an eye on the stash, so will readily comment and make little sarcastic digs if it grows too quickly.
Another mitigation technique is “out of sight out of mind” - I live in a big three story Dutch house with space under the eaves of the roof for storage, accessed by little hatches in the corner. I can move models from my stash to under the eaves but the trick is not to do it and not tell her, as she just thinks you are hiding them from her. Trick is to TELL HER you are moving them “as they are lower priority builds and I want to keep the attic area clean and tidy and not too stuffed with junk” - this meets with universal approval to the extent that she forgets that i am moving models out of her sight and she applauds me my maturity for wanting to keep the place clean.
To defeat the woman, you must first become the woman, and learn to think like her.
I don’t look great in a dress to be fair, but I do know how she thinks now.
Once I’ve ordered a model I am excited to get it into my grubby mitts, so I’ll watch YouTube reviews and construction videos where these exist to sate my enthusiasm. Some I am so excited about that they never make it upstairs and go straight into build and never hit the stash. Others I buy, forget about and then marvel that I cannot remember buying them when I stare for what seems like hours at the stash boxes, trying to figure out what to build next. This is a most peculiarly traumatic ecstasy.
Generally it is a nicely oiled machine - I have learned to keep it out of her face and not to “take the ****” as she would say, and she has learned not to ask too many questions.
The problem arises when I go out and have a few drinks. What little amount of impulse control I do have goes out the window when I’m hammered. I’m 44, one 3 year old toddler at home and a really full on quite senior job so I just don’t get the chance to go out that often, and when I do, I tend to enjoy myself. As a Brit, that means get battered.
Given that the excitement on a night out of meeting girls and so on doesn’t happen now (obviously) I tend to find myself footloose and fancy free on eBay at the end of the night, giggling to myself in the back of a Taxi at how easy it is to spend £400 in a few strokes of your thumb.
I then wake up hungover and miserable the following day, Mrs is fuming with me for rumbling in at 2am and is either not speaking to me or chasing me with a cane screeching about respect and self discipline. Neither are very much fun when hungover and most of the time I forget I ordered what I ordered on Ebay until it rocks up at home.
The doorbell goes.
I go answer it and the PostNL man is hidden behind a vast box of cardboard. I have no idea what is in it. Mrs is curious too.
I open it.
To my astonishment there is a HobbyBoss BAZ-64022 truck with 5P85TE2 erector launcher for an S-400 missile system in 1:35.
She says “bloody hell. That’s a massive kit. When did you order that one? You kept that quiet…”
I shrug and tell her (truthfully) I cannot remember ordering it.
She gives me a look that would curdle milk and I lug the massive box upstairs knowing I will pay dearly for this outrage.
(maybe TMI but) We sometimes do some fun roleplay in our bedroom repertoire, and I remember vividly making the mistake of admitting/suggesting I buy too many models when in a sexy teacher/student sexy detention dynamic. I thought maybe I could score some brownie points, maybe make it up to her in a way she would appreciate, wipe the slate clean, so to speak? All that happened was she got angry and told me to think about my behaviour and went to sleep. I never mentioned it in bed again. 11/10 wouldn’t recommend.
Worst thing you can do is tell her you are stopping or curtailing your model purchasing. Thats such a rookie error and I’ve fallen foul of that a few times. Whereas the arrival of a parcel before might be met with a tut and a rolling of the eye and maybe a comment under the breath, once you say you are stopping or reducing, when a parcel arrives its like the Torquemada Inquisition.
HER “I thought you said you weren’t buying any more.”
ME “I’m not. This is from ages ago.”
HER rummages in the box and appears brandishing a piece of white A4 “This says last week”
ME “…”
HER “Why don’t you ever do what you say you are going to do? Why lie about it?”
ME “…”
HER “The foundation of a successful marriage is honesty. IT IS HONESTY! ISNT IT?!?!?!?”
ME “Ummmm…”
HER “You are a crap liar and a pathetic life partner sometimes. I love you to bits, I love you til the day after I di, but God damn you are a ******** sometimes, Chris.”
ME “…”
HER “IF YOU SAY YOU ARE GOING TO DO SOMETHING THEN F****** DO IT!!!”
ME “…ok.”
The model box calls to you from the kitchen table. You know you should just ignore it and maybe take it away upstairs out of her eyeline but of course you cant.
The itch starts.
You are being invisibly drawn to the box like some tractor beam has a lock on you.
Dont touch the box, Chris.
Dont touch it.
DONT TOUCH THE BOX…
DONT!!!
You open the box. You are aware of a man’s voice speaking but it cannot be yours, can it?
"…look at this molding though honey. Look how amazing that casting detail is, can you see in the light? Can you see?
…oh my god it has a metal barrel too… corrrr…"
Then she just turns to you and destroys you utterly with one sentence.
“I swear if you looked at me with half the lust and enthusiasm you get from your bloody model kits, we wouldn’t be needing to see a sex councillor.”
OUCH.