Funkos: collecting, dopamine and the illusion of investing

Funkos and 80s stamps: the same bubble in resin

Adults between 20 and 65 who spend 8 to 11 hours a day at work and set aside Saturday to drop 60 euros on a 15-centimetre resin figure are no longer an anecdote. They are the contemporary version of a story this country already lived through with postage stamps: the collection that promised a fortune and ended up serving as a paperweight next to the tax return.

The investment argument doesn't survive serious scrutiny. Items are bought under the umbrella of "limited edition", feeding the fantasy that the piece will appreciate. The reality is rougher: display cases fill up, dust accumulates and general retailers, from FNAC to El Corte Inglés, are saturated with big-headed plastic figures. If the edition were really so limited, it wouldn't be this easy to find.

The real driver of the purchase is something else. Behind the little figure there is a dose of dopamine, a need to belong and a way of buying identity at retail. Along the way a contradiction slips in: the same person who preaches the culture of hard work is capable of going without essentials to feed the collection. Some read it as the comfort of the herd; others as proof that capitalism wrecks minds, bodies and souls.

The problem isn't the figure itself. It's the gap between what you claim to be buying —an asset— and what you actually acquire: dust shaped like a character. Three paycheques away from sleeping on the street, speculation is a luxury you can't afford.