Read the text below.
A dozen people outside a Milan metro station on February 11 stared intently at their phones until 8 a.m., when an Instagram post provided a location. “Run, don’t walk: we’re in the Castello area,” said the post. “Pins are available while supplies last.”
It sent the group sprinting. Early each morning in Milan, eager collectors gathered to await word of the exact spot where they could score highly prized, limited-edition Olympic pins that—if they were fast enough—were free.
Ilaria Pasqua got up and out early every day from February 7 to snag the coveted pins from YesMilano, the city’s promotional agency, and she planned to complete the collection of seven neighborhoods—including Isola and Porta Venezia—and five iconic landmarks, like the Duomo. She teamed up with three collectors she met on the first day, and they developed a system to be among the first in line.
“I know it can sound like it’s a bit extreme, and (like) it’s a waste of time. But actually, I’ve met these people that I am doing this with, so it’s nice,” said Pasqua, an English teacher in Milan. “It’s a way to get to know the city that you live in or are visiting. It’s also social. I’m really enjoying it, to be honest. And you take a little treasure with you home every day, so it’s fun.” Each day after receiving her pins, Pasqua says she stuffs them deep in her coat pocket–out of view from latecomers looking for a trade that she doesn’t want to make.
Pin collecting is an essential part of the Olympic subculture, with people traveling far and wide to the Games just to add to what is often a very substantial array of enameled pins at home.
Elite collectors know the intrinsic value of each category, including retail, delegation, team, sponsor, media, and national Olympic committees. Japanese media pins are among the most coveted by die-hard collectors, for their rarity, while in Cortina, athletes were keen to get an Iran pin, and in Paris, Snoop Dogg’s pins were the buzziest.
This article was provided by The Associated Press.