Over the past few years, I've offcially made the transition from "book lover" to "book collector." The difference mainly lies in the types of books I'm most inclined to buy: coveted presses like Taschen (my favorite) or Phaidon, and gorgeous hardcovers of all kinds. Yes, that's right. I buy books because they're pretty — only, of course, if I intend to (eventually) read them.
Normally, when I see a lovely book, my initial reaction is, "Oooh!" But today, when I walked in to a Barnes & Noble for the first time in ages (there's not one very nearby) and saw a giant stack of beautifully bound volumes, I said, "Shit." I said it out loud. Shit.
In the picture above, you can see just my favorites. The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll. Seven novels by Jane Austen. The entire Chronicles of Narnia. Stories by H. G. Wells. The whole Hitchhikers' Guide! I could get one for me and one to replace my friend Mary's copy that I pretty much destroyed in college. They're only $20, for Pete's sake. Sure, they're "Bargain" Collectibles, and anyone can pick them up at any B&N anywhere. But just look at them! Ribbon markers! Embossing! Puffy covers! AND, of course, must-have collector's titles.
I guess I'm just going to have to pace myself. Maybe I'll buy one per month. Or one per week...one per day? No, no. I'll take it slow — after all, it's going to take some time to clear out all that shelf space.