Stock Horse Stallion

(Breyer History Diva, 2010.)

Most of the Stock Horse Stallion’s previous pinto releases have been pretty blah. The LSE "Dallas" was pretty sweet, and I love my Sam I Am, but all of the easier-to-get Pintos? Total snoozers.

I can remember being a little surprised - and a tad bit disappointed - when my original Black Pinto Stock Horse Stallion arrived on my doorstep in early 1981. I had ordered him based on the photos I had seen in the Collector’s Manual I had received from the Bentley Sales Company:


Him, I found exciting. I love black pintos - and a minimal, mostly black one? Perfection! In fact, everywhere you looked in 1981, you found a different Black Pinto Stock Horse Stallion. Here’s another one, from the 1981 Alden’s Christmas Catalog:


Marney might have designed that one specifically; she had photos of both sides of one an awful lot like it in her photo album:


Also exciting? The San Domingo test from the 1981 Dealer’s Catalog. I’m not a huge fan of San Domingo, but I thought he looked freaking amazing in an airbrushed minimal black pinto:


Clearly the mold itself wasn’t ready in time for the photo shoot for the Dealer’s Catalog, so the next best thing - the San Domingos - had to be substituted. The stores placing their initial orders wouldn’t have been overly concerned that the final product varied somewhat from the Dealer’s Catalog; while I wouldn’t say that it was an expected occurrence, that sort of thing happens enough to not be that big a deal. Most toy buyers at that time wouldn’t have noticed, or cared, that the molds or the patterns didn’t match. They ordered black and white spotted horses, they got black and white spotted horses. No biggie.

Now the Collector’s Manual, that was a different situation: that was going straight into the hands of hobbyists and other consumers. While the hobby, and the model horse market in general, was not as sophisticated as it is now, the difference would have been noticed. And commented on, either to the toy store, or to Breyer itself.

Evidently the shoot for the Collector’s Manual was put off long enough to get some actual Stock Horse Stallions in there. The paint jobs weren’t finalized by then, but at least it was the right mold. Breyer would get a slew of whiny letters (including mine) about the catalog paint jobs not matching the production paint jobs, but not in the same quantity, or intensity, that a San Domingo subsitution would have brought.

As for the wide variety of pinto patterns, I’m not sure what was up with that. I do know there was a genuine dispute over the pattern, partly stemming from the fact that Peter Stone apparently didn’t know (at the time) the difference between Overo and Tobiano. But did each version represent the actual, viable production item at the moment of that photo shoot, or were they just whatever random test pieces they happened to have lying around?

If any of these early test pintos happen to turn up in the near future, I’d certain consider pouncing on them, regardless of my current financial stake.

Rare to Common Ratios

(Breyer History Diva, 2010.)


While it may seem that this is a new phenomenon, there are vintage molds that have disproportionate rare-to-common ratios. The Elephant is the most famous of these: how many of you out there have the Blue, the Pink, the Woodgrain and the one with the Howdah?

The piece runs on those Elephants is unknown, but undoubtedly very small: the Blue, Pink and Howdah Elephants only appeared in the ca. 1958 PR materials, and the Woodgrain not at all. But just how small? A few hundred - or a couple thousand?

It may seem absurd to think that rarities like those Elephants could have been made in the thousands, until you factor in Time and Space. They were released in a Time before the hobby was truly organized, much less catered to. And the Space they were released into was not just the hobby, but the world.

A 1500-piece SR may seem "large," especially if it’s distributed exclusively within the hobby. Distribute it to the world though, and it seems vanishingly small. Even if you limited to just the United States, that’d still average out to only 30 pieces per state. (Good for hobbyists in small or low-density states like New Hampshire or Wyoming, not so good for ones in big or high-density states like California or New York.)

The actual number of Pink-Blue-Woodgrain-Howdah Elephants in the hobby proper is hard to gauge, but I doubt it exceeds more than a couple dozen of each. Yet I feel I have a greater chance of acquiring those Elephants than I do the Esprits. The possibility of getting lucky is very real. It’s already happened once: I found a Howdah Elephant on a very slow day on eBay a few years ago.

Horned Herefords

(From Breyer History Diva, 2010.)


I actually found some models at the flea market this weekend. Nothing super-special - an Appaloosa Performance Horse, a Five-Gaiter, and a Red Roan Scratching Foal - but good finds still, especially when I thought the outdoor markets were tapped out for the year.

The vendor in question actually had more, but being a little more strapped for cash than usual this week, I had to leave them behind. They were good bodies at an even better price, but financial issues aside, I had just cleared out most of my bodies, and I really didn't want more cluttering up the office. (Hey, I didn’t spend all that time cleaning and organizing for nothing!)

Let’s try something short and uncomplicated today: Horned Hereford Bull variations. There are four significant variations on the original #71 in Brown and White - more if you count the different shades of brown, but I usually don’t. Today we’ll talk about the two most common variations - the airbrushed, and the masked.

Here’s an example of the airbrushed variation: the head and neck are masked, but the legs and belly are not.


(Yes, it's the one I have up for sale on MH$P. Any takers?)

The earliest photographs of the Horned Hereford Bull, however, show it completely masked. As it is here, in the November 1956 issue of Toys and Novelties:


So you’d think that would mean the partially airbrushed version is rare, right? Not really. Airbrushed Herefords are a little uncommon, but not uncommon enough to attract a much higher a price. He appears to have been in production in this variation as late as 1960, judging from his appearance in the 1960 Dealer’s Catalog.

But when did the completely masked version finally make its appearance? I couldn’t tell you. That version of the Hereford - one with the true production paint job, and not the obvious test piece from 1956 - finally appears in the 1963 Dealer’s Catalog. Whether the masking was new for that year, or something that happened in the time between the two Dealer’s Catalogs, is currently unknown. There’s no documentation from that period reliable enough to make that determination, just those same stock shots from 1956. (Those darn stock photos - the bane of my existence, they are!)

It’s strange that it took so many years for Breyer to change the masking to reflect the original concept. If it was selling just fine before, why bother tinkering with it later? Boredom? A make-work project? Did the original mask get lost in the factory somewhere until the cleaning lady found it?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Chalky Herefords

(Breyer History Diva, 2010.)

Remember when Chalkies weren’t that big a deal? They really didn’t become a "thing" until about 10 or 15 years ago. Hobbyists knew about them, and some of us even kinda-sorta collected them, but generally they didn’t elicit much of a reaction except among the true diehards.

The one good thing about Chalkies being not all that cool back then was that you could amass a fairly decent sized collection of them, at unscary prices. I can't recall exactly how many I have at the moment, but it's definite in the dozens.

One that I do regret not acquiring - back when I could - was the Horned Hereford Bull.

Some Chalkies are more rare or more desirable than others, and he certainly falls in that category. He’s not the rarest of Chalkies, but he inspires the kind of prices that make it seem so. Part of the reason so is because he’s what I call an Anomalous Chalky - Chalkies that weren’t made during the "Chalky Era," ca. 1973-1976.

A lot of hobbyists tend to think of these Anomalous Chalkies as being even more desirable than the standard Chalky Era Chalkies precisely because ... they’re anomalous. Chalkies from the 1950s and 1960s just have to be more rare and more valuable than the ones from the 1970s!

Actually, it’s hard to determine. I think they are a little scarcer than later Chalkies because of the way the technique was employed back then. A substantial portion of the Breyer line - not all, but most models - were made as Chalkies during the Chalky Era out of sheer necessity. Some of those Chalkies are definitely harder to find than others, but finding any Chalkies from that time period isn’t all that difficult. I picked up three or four of them this year, alone. 

(I know, I know, my flea markets are better than yours. Blah blah etc.)

The Anomalous Chalkies - especially the earliest ones, from the 1950s - were made on a case by case, as-needed basis. Ran out of white plastic? Mold them in whatever color we’ve got, and paint ‘em over. Need a few pieces in another color to fill an order? Repaint the overstock.

Is it possible that some of the individual Chalky releases from the 1970s might be more rare than some from the 1950s and 1960s? Yes. The problem in determining that isn’t just one of time (its ravages, and the distance) but also of knowledge. There are a lot of low-information hobbyists out there that do not know what they have. Look at how many collectors still can’t tell the difference between the Family Arabians and the Old Molds, especially when the consequences of not knowing are so darn high! 

The other Horned Hereford rarity may come as a surprise: it’s the Matte version. Yep, they made them in Matte, albeit very (very) briefly at the end of his very long run in 1981. Hobbyists are accustomed to assuming that the Glossy version of any given model is the rarer or more desirable one, but that’s not always the case.

The Horned Hereford Bull is one of those special cases. I know he’s rare, because I’ve been searching for one, unsuccessfully, for several years now. I don’t know if he’s more rare than the Chalky, but I think I’ve only seen one verifiable Matte in the past ten years. It wasn’t in the best condition, so I passed him by.

Silly me won’t be making that mistake again.

More on Boxes

(From Breyer History Diva, 2010.)

Take a look at my most recent acquisition, an upgrade of my #72 Semi-rough cut Walking Polled Angus Bull, mint in his original illustrated shipper box:


I had been hoping to upgrade my Semi-rough cut for quite some time, but I wasn’t expecting one quite that grand. (An illustrated shipper? Awesome!) He’s so minty-mint, the wrapping tissue is still intact:


In case the snugness of the fit doesn’t boggle your mind, here’s the box in comparison to a Family Arabian Mare. No special reason for the selection of a FAM, other than her ubiquity:


It’s teeny-tiny! (Yeah, yeah, she’s a Sorrel FAM. She’s part of the office herd.)

I already knew how small the mold is (he’s only slightly larger than Classic scale, more or less) but it still blew my mind to see how comfortably the whole package fit into a standard 12 x 12 x 8 Priority Mail box.

The only damage incurred in his 50-year trip through time and space? A pair of very slight eartip rubs.

Shrinkies & Boxes

(From Breyer History Diva, 2010.)

First, about Shrinkies: yes, I am aware of the existence of more recent Shrinkies. Unlike the late 1980s Shrinkies, the more modern ones occur more randomly - a batch here, a batch there. That suggests to me that the problem is more a result of faulty plastic, than faulty molding. (Bad molding certainly wouldn’t help, though.)

All Cellulose Acetate models will shrink eventually, it’s just a matter of when. If your models manage to make it through the first decade or so of their lives without exhibiting any unpleasant behaviors, I think they’re safe for the long haul, however long that may actual be.

Now, a few more words about shipper boxes.

We call the early, corrugated cardboard boxes shipper boxes because they were designed to be shipped as is. One side typically had the spaces marked out for the shipping and return addresses:


The other side would have the shipping details and instructions:


If you can’t read it, it says:

Contents: Merchandise - 4th Class Mail
Postmaster: This parcel may be opened for postage
inspection if necessary. Return and forwarding
postage guaranteed.

The example illustrated above (from a #22 Brown Pinto Shetland Pony) was obviously never mailed, but some were. I once owned an old Family Arabian Stallion with a used shipper box. (The best part was the return address: Mission Supply House!)

The shipper box was the standard packaging for virtually all Breyers prior to 1973. There were some exceptions - Lassie, Rin Tin Tin, the Horse and Rider sets all came in fancy shelf boxes - but most models didn’t merit that kind of treatment. It was cheap, and practical, especially for mail-order businesses like Mission Supply House. Address it, stamp it, and it’s ready to go!

Shipper boxes worked for retail businesses, too. In the 1950s, 1960s, and into part of the 1970s, most toy stores would have a display of horses on a shelf or a case. You’d make your selection, and the store would then go to the stock room and get you a still-boxed one. A fancy box wasn’t necessary to make the sale.

I imagine that the shipper box might have even been a bit of a selling point, especially to grandparents with distant grandkids. Straight from the toy store to the post office - no muss, no fuss!

I’m guessing that my bull was either old store stock, or a gift that was purchased, and never given. Doesn’t matter either way, he has a happy home on my shelves now.

Variations on the Quarter Horse Yearling

(From Breyer History Diva, 2010.)

(You’ll just have to pretend that the Palomino Western Pony is my Chalky Yearling, who for reasons unknown even to me is apparently detained somewhere else for the duration.)

I hardly ever find Liver Chestnut Yearlings, and Palomino ones aren’t super common in these parts, either. But at any given time, I always have at least one Appaloosa Yearling either on my saleslist, or in my body box. If I manage to sell one, the Universe manages to put in an automatic restock order.

That’s how come I have about a half dozen in my collection. You get that many passing through, and you’re bound to find variations. Big blankets, small blankets, different blazes, differently colored spots? Yup, gotta keep 'em.

There’s only one I consciously sought out - the two sock variation. She was a tough one: it took me a while to find her, and she’s not minty mint. It’s definitely an earlier variation, but it’s not one seen in any catalogs or other contemporaneous PR materials: all of the pictures of her from 1971 onward show her with those solid, Sandy Bay legs.


The Appaloosa Yearling is the only Breyer model to come in this peculiar shade of bay-that’s-not-bay. I can’t even recall seeing any vintage test colors that might have sported it. The closest match is the #154 Bay Blanket POA, whose color tends to be much warmer and more orangey.

The fact that the color is peculiar to the Appaloosa Yearling makes me wonder if they were modeling it after a specific, real-life horse. I haven’t found any evidence of that, but it’s another one of those notions I keep in the back of my mind as I mine old horse magazines for other precious nuggets of Breyer info.