Olympic Merchandise: Money, Memories and Memorabilia

Olympic merchandise appreciates rapidly and at a high rate – the price of a 2004 Olympics souvenir badge, for example, has gone up 10 fold,” says Gu Bingfu, director of the Sports Branch of the China Association of Collectors. “The price of a poster from the 1988 Seoul Olympics sold for RMB 1,500 in recent years.” Yet the original price of many of these items was quite cheap. Over 5,000 varieties of Olympic merchandise are currently available in shops around the country, ranging from RMB 8 pens to pieces of metalwork costing RMB 500,000.

Many local shoppers are buying merchandise as gifts, especially around traditional Chinese festivals. Olympic souvenirs are considered a generous and tasteful choice, with collection value to boot. Sales in the Olympic merchandise flagship store on Beijing’s Wangfujing shopping mall reached RMB 800,000 on the outlet’s opening day, and since then the shop has become a must-see attraction for many tourists. According to one staff member, besides the best-selling Fuwa Olympic mascots, expensive pure gold “Bird’s Nest” stadiums are selling like hotcakes.

Serious Collecting

Tu Yueming is famous in Beijing as an Olympics stamp collector. The five rings of the Olympic flag hang in the window of his home, woven in Chinese knots. Inside, two big boxes of Olympic stamps represent 25 years of collecting. It’s a mark of his dedication that Tu laid out RMB 88 in a stamp market to complete his second set of commemorative Beijing Olympics stamps. They originally sold for RMB 9.6 at the post office.

“The Chinese people have been waiting a century for the Beijing Olympics,” Tu says with a smile. “As early as 1908, when a track meet organized by Tianjin Young Men’s Christian Association was held at Nankai University, there were three striking questions written across the playground wall: ‘When will China send an outstanding athlete to the Olympic Games?’, ‘When will China send an excellent sports team to the Olympic Games?’, and ‘When will China be able to hold the Olympic Games in Beijing?’” Tu has placed the newspaper clipping containing this story on the first page of his “Olympics Century” stamp book. “It was the first time Chinese people expressed a wish to hold the Olympic Games in Beijing,” says Tu proudly.

On July 13, 2001, the night Beijing won the bid for 2008, Tu Yueming kept vigil with his camera on Tian’anmen Square, radio in hand. “Suddenly a policewoman got out of her car and shouted ‘Beijing has won!’, waving her hands about,” recalls Tu. “I was surprised by such impulsive behavior from the police.” As the good news spread, strangers in Tian’anmen Square clasped hands in mutual congratulations. National flags sold by peddlers on the square sold out instantly, while on the traffic-jammed streets people waved the flag on top of their cars. Seeing Tu with his stamp collection six years later, it’s clear he cherishes the stamps and the memories they represent; “When I look at these treasures, collected over several decades, it’s as if I look into the past.”

Tu Yueming is not alone in his passion. In fact, according to Gu Bingfu, “Olympic collectors in China number more than 10 million.” Collections vary of course, and stamps represent just one example of the wealth of Olympic memorabilia that has been produced over the years. Many items were originally given away free. When it was announced that Beijing had won the bid for 2008, for instance, the People’s Daily issued a special free supplement. Although these supplements were produced in great numbers at the time, few people kept them, so they can fetch up to RMB 100 on the collector’s market.

“As with the stock market, most Olympic collectors in China are concerned about the return on their investment,” says Gu. Compared with stocks, however, investments in Olympic merchandise are low in risk and high on returns, a fact that has drawn numerous buyers to the field. On September 20, 2006, the first set of gold coins related to the Beijing Olympics was issued by the People’s Bank of China. The set sold for RMB 9,500 at issue. “The coins already fetch RMB 14,000 and will keep appreciating,” says Gu confidently.

Fake “Fuwa”

Enthusiasm for the Olympics has also generated a roaring trade in unlicensed merchandise. Down the road from the flagship Olympic store, a middle-aged woman is selling “Fuwa” – the five Olympic mascots – in a Wangfujing bus stop. When she spots a foreigner, she lapses into simple but fluent English. Business, she says, is “not bad.”

Posters of the Fuwa can now be found everywhere in Beijing, from shopping malls to restaurants to subway stations. To protect intellectual property rights (IPR) related to the mascots, Beijing has established a coordinated system of protection. In 2006, the Beijing Administration for Industry and Commerce investigated and prosecuted 89 cases of counterfeit Olympic trademarks, and Beijing Customs tracked down one case infringing Olympic IPR. Beijing buses carry publicity about Olympic copyright, but the counterfeit trade remains. An “official” Fuwa key chain costs RMB 15, while you can buy a copy from a vendor for less than RMB 3. Not everyone can afford certified Olympic products, and where there’s a demand counterfeiters will always be active.

Whether they’re buying merchandise in the shops or in the streets, there is no doubting the Chinese people’s passion for the Olympics. And a smart purchase in an official Olympics store today may see the buyer holding a valuable collectors’ item tomorrow.