Chris Young finds his collection of garden gnomes in the front garden of his north Devon home rewarding, nostalgic and creative -and is prepared to defend his hobby of 20 years.
“I’ve been collecting garden gnomes for over 20 years. The last time I ‘rounded them all up’ I had 67.
I’m not a nerd, eccentric in any way or what my son-in-law admittedly calls a ’sad case’.
They adorn my Devon garden and bring pleasure to passers by.
In a world increasingly dominated by digital entertainment, fast-paced lifestyles, and mass-produced everything, collecting garden gnomes might seem like a quaint or even odd pastime. Yet, for those who have discovered the quiet magic of these miniature guardians of the garden, collecting gnomes is anything but foolish—it’s deeply rewarding, nostalgic, and creative.
True at first glance, garden gnomes may appear whimsical and silly. Often depicted with red hats, cheerful faces, and mischievous poses, these small statues have long been part of European folklore, particularly in Germanic traditions. Gnomes were believed to be protectors of buried treasure and loyal custodians of the land. When placed in gardens, they were thought to bring good luck and shield the home from misfortune. So, gnomes in fact carry a cultural heritage that dates back centuries.
For collectors like myself, gnomes offer a tangible connection to this folklore—a way to honour tradition while creating a playful, personal outdoor space. What started with one solitary gnome beside a flower bed for me quickly grow into a full-blown collection, each figure contributing to an unfolding story within the garden. Some collectors create miniature villages; others arrange scenes that reflect seasonal themes or family inside jokes.
There’s also a therapeutic aspect to it all. Stepping into a gnome-filled garden can feel like escaping into a quieter, friendlier dimension. The process of selecting, cleaning, arranging, and even repairing gnomes offers me a lot of satisfaction. Each gnome, with its unique pose and expression, invites a moment of pause—a chuckle, a memory, or a feeling of comfort.
Moreover, garden gnome collecting is a surprisingly social activity. In my years of collecting I’ve been made aware of entire communities—online and offline—of enthusiasts who trade, discuss, and display their collections. Gnome collectors often take pride in finding rare or vintage pieces, and the thrill of the hunt—whether at flea markets, estate sales, or online auctions—adds an exciting layer to the experience. Collectors swap stories, share tips for preservation, and occasionally gather at conventions or local fairs where gnomes are celebrated with gusto. What may seem like a solitary hobby is a doorway into a whimsical community.
The artistry involved in gnome collecting is often overlooked. Many gnomes are hand-painted, crafted from ceramic, resin, or concrete, and feature impressive detail and craftsmanship. Vintage gnomes, especially those made in the mid-20th century or earlier, can be genuine works of folk art. Appreciating this artistry is no less valid than admiring hand-thrown pottery or carved wooden sculptures. In fact, some gnome collections are valuable not only sentimentally but monetarily—certain antique gnomes can fetch hundreds or even thousands among serious collectors.
But even beyond the history, value, and community, collecting garden gnomes brings simple joy. They are humorous, charming, and occasionally cheeky companions. Whether it’s a gnome fishing by a pond, reclining with a pipe, or mooning the neighbour’s petunias, they elicit smiles from passersby and collectors alike.
So, is collecting garden gnomes foolish? Not in the slightest. It’s an art form, a tradition, and a joyful hobby all rolled into one. It brings connection—to nature, to community, and to imagination. In every painted face and whimsical stance, there’s a story waiting to be told—and I think that’s something worth collecting.”
