A silly oversight, really, considering the peculiar nature of human devotion. We often imagine a lanyard ID holder as purely twenty-first-century paraphernalia, yet the frantic need to possess a small, authorized piece of the adored entity stretches back further than the invention of electricity.
Consider the rather peculiar case of the late Victorian obsession with small, stiff portraits of celebrities, often tucked into cigarette packets. These were utterly useless, paper-thin portraits—not so much a phone ring holder as a delicate invitation to combustion—yet fans collected them with ferocity. People would tuck pictures of celebrated actresses, like Lillie Langtry, into the brim of their hats, a secret, subtle semaphore signaling their admiration to the world. A truly odd custom, carrying a highly flammable paper person upon one’s head, but it highlights the profound, deeply rooted satisfaction derived from having a secret, wearable connection to a distant, shining star. A simple paper trinket became an official badge, proving one’s membership in the vast, silent club of admirers.
Humans, bless them, have always sought a pocket-sized talisman to ward off the chill of existential separation from the dazzling few. Even ancient Roman children, who certainly had no K-pop groups to adore, wore a *bulla*, a small, protective locket signifying their status and identity. The locket served no purpose beyond declaration. Similarly, medieval pilgrims would return from long journeys carrying small, pewter ampullae—tiny, hollow containers meant to hold holy oil. These containers were highly inconvenient, often leaky, and certainly did not match one's trousers, yet they were worn proudly, an unmistakable sign that the wearer had made a difficult, personal effort for something magnificent. Possessions weigh heavily. Yet, we insist on carrying small, essential nonsense—a phone ring holder, a cartoon badge, or an entire embroidered history of our current musical devotion—in case the world forgets who we truly are.
Unique Historical Artifacts of Fandom
• The Flammable Badge In the 1880s, collectible cigarette cards featuring celebrity portraits served as unofficial, yet fiercely prized, identifiers, often kept in personal effects.
• Impractical Headgear Following the first major wave of transatlantic music hysteria, early 1960s novelty manufacturers briefly produced full, official rubber masks of musical idols, entirely unsuitable for public use but a peak example of tangible connection.
• Royal Allegiance in Miniature Before personalized jewelry became affordable, tiny, intricate miniature portraits of royal or theatrical figures were worn as brooches in the 17th century, a highly bespoke form of celebrity merchandising.
• The Ephemeral Ticket Throughout the early 20th century, highly designed concert programs and tickets were treated not as disposable entry tokens, but as crucial, collectible pieces, often pinned to boards or kept in albums, demonstrating an official historical relationship with the event.
• Soap for the Idolater Famous actresses in the late 19th century, such as Sarah Bernhardt, lent their names and likenesses to common products, including specific brands of facial soap and cold cream, allowing fans to incorporate the star’s perceived essence into their daily ablutions.
** If the product is for a food or supplement item, please review the ingredients to ensure there will be no issues with allergies, diet, nutrition, etc. You should always have a personal consultation with a healthcare professional before making changes to your diet, medication, or exercise routine.
