Chicago 2025: Bargain Boxes, Big Crowds, and the Future of Stamp Shows

How GASS reminded me why I love this hobby—and why it needs to change before it’s too late.

Every Summer, the Great American Stamp Show (GASS) sweeps into a different city, bringing the big leagues of U.S. stamp collecting along with it. This year, it was Chicago’s turn, and as always, the event felt like a homecoming. It’s the one show where everybody shows up—the big dealers, the stamp societies, the exhibitors, the judges, the collectors who plan their vacations around this week just to buy, sell, or finally meet that one fellow collector they’ve emailed a dozen times but never seen face-to-face.

I’ve been to more stamp shows than I can count, and this year reminded me why I still make the trip: I had a great time, I made new friends I actually plan to stay in touch with, and I left with that familiar post-show buzz of new ideas and old frustrations. Because GASS, like most big shows today, is full of energy in the right places but still clings to habits that hold it back.

When I got home, I made my weekly appearance with the guys at the Stamp Show Here Today podcast, and we compared notes. We agreed: the bones are strong. Attendance was solid, especially given how tough travel has become lately. Exhibits were interesting — people wanted to talk about their collections, to share their stories, to show off the pieces they’ve nurtured for years.

And then there was the bourse. Oh, the bourse.

Time to Evolve

Before I get into this, let’s set the record straight: stamp collecting is not dying. I’m tired of hearing the same old doom-and-gloom chorus from people who mistake their shrinking world for the whole hobby. Yes, bourses are fading, APS membership is in decline, and Linn’s readership has all but evaporated—but that’s not the death of the hobby. That’s the death of an outdated model.

Want proof? Look at eBay—over two million stamps in the U.S. category alone, active buyers every day, and a thriving online marketplace that dwarfs the old ways of doing business. And eBay is only one of many online marketplaces where people buy and sell stamps. The truth is, stamp collecting has evolved, but too many collectors are still stuck in the past, clinging to the bourse as if it’s the only lifeline left. It’s not. And frankly, I won’t mourn that mentality when it’s gone.

Some scientists believe that this evolutionary model should be updated to give the final human some stamp tongs in place of a spear.

That said, I don’t believe bourses have to disappear entirely. They can adapt. They should adapt. But it’s time they stopped pretending it’s still 1985 and started finding ways to matter in the world we live in now.

The Secret Sauce: Cheap Stamps and Big Crowds

If you’ve been to a major show in the last few years, you know the pattern: dealers with their plexiglass displayed stock with neatly arranged red-boxes full of 102 cards get polite foot traffic, but the dollar tables are mobbed. Chicago was no different. The beating heart of the show wasn’t the booths filled with better stamps neatly organized for retail sale—it was the bargain bin section.

And no one seemed to pull a bigger crowd than Jerry Koepp of Coins, Stamps ‘n Stuff. Somehow, Jerry ended up with what looked like an entire block of tables tucked in the back of the hall, right near the cheap cover and dollar stamp section. Six dealers could have fit in that space, but it was just him and a couple of helpers—one of them my buddy “Montana Dave,” who’s now in Florida helping care for his mom, so I may need to start calling him “Florida Dave.”

Jerry’s booth was swamped from open to close. People were shoulder to shoulder, flipping through boxes, piling up their finds. His secret? No secret at all: cheap collections and mint postage sheets. The stuff dealers love to dismiss as low-end was exactly what people came to dig through.

And that’s the story that keeps repeating itself. There is a massive appetite for approachable, beginner-friendly material. Dime stamps, dollar covers, quarter cards—these aren’t just table-fillers, they’re gateways. If we want to grow the hobby, this is where the energy is.

The Vanishing Quarter Box—and Why It Matters

Over lunch one afternoon with my friend and PSE colleague Jim, we ended up talking about this very trend—and how one dealer in Salt Lake City is quietly bringing back the old quarter card concept. Jim couldn’t make it to the Chicago show, but he had just attended a three-day event the weekend before and shared what he learned about Dave Blackhurst’s approach. Instead of selling dime-a-dozen stamps, Dave fills cards with individual stamps or small groups priced anywhere from a few dollars up to $10 or more. Scott Murphy was at the table with us and jumped in, “Oh yeah, I grab those all the time. I usually spend a few hundred bucks on those quarter cards in one go!”

When I was a kid, my quarter box dealer went by a different name: Don Carter. I can still see his table filled with boxes of quarter cards. Short sets, broken sets, random high values that were just a little too awkward to inventory, groups of odds and ends bundled together because they didn’t belong anywhere else. For a young collector with a 19th Century Scott International album, this was pure gold. My dad and I would camp out at that box all Sunday, pulling cards by the handful. Don had a brilliant system—no questions asked returns for duplicates. We’d take home a mountain of material, sort it out, and anything we already had would go back for credit next time.

That kind of booth doesn’t just sell stamps—it creates collectors. It fills the gap between “ten stamps for a dollar” and “$100 for a single stamp.” And it’s disappearing. The dime tables are fewer every year.

This is a mistake. Because while some dealers sniff at these setups as beneath them, they’re exactly what gets new blood flowing into the hobby. If the entry points vanish, the advanced collectors of tomorrow never get made.

Why the Old Bourse Model Is Crumbling

Meanwhile, the classic red-box bourse model—the rows of 102 cards, the price tags that reflect a world before eBay—just keeps shrinking. Let’s be honest: why would anyone pay full retail for a stamp they can find online for a third of the price, with ten times the selection, without leaving the couch?

That’s the core challenge shows need to face. They can’t compete on inventory anymore. They need to compete on experience. Make the hunt fun again. Make the show something you can’t get online.

And that’s not going to happen by putting more pressure on the dealers. It’s going to happen by flipping the script: build the show for the collectors first, and let the dealers benefit from the fact that the collectors are there.

We Forgot the Social Side

This is the part of the conversation where my experience as a former bourse chairman comes in. I spent two years running the bourse at SESCAL and another five on the committee. I know the politics, the juggling, the headaches. It’s a thankless job. You need the dealers happy, because you’re also a buyer, and you don’t want to sour those relationships.

But somewhere along the way, shows lost their original purpose. They stopped being gatherings and turned into retail hours.

The first stamp shows weren’t about selling. They were hotel ballrooms full of collectors who wanted to meet, talk, and trade. The first big stamp shows started in 1886 as meetings of stamp collectors. These meetings would eventually evolve into the American Philatelic Society (APS). Dealers came after. The first big U.S. exhibition was in 1913 in New York. White Plains hosted the first decennial international in 1926, with the Post Office getting involved and the whole thing ballooning into an event (read more about the origin of stamp shows here.) But at its heart, a show was a reason to meet other collectors.

So here’s the question: why are we still running them like bankers’ hours shopping malls? Why are we closing the doors at five, sending everyone back to their hotel rooms, and calling that a weekend?

How to Bring Back the Fun

I’ll give you an example of how it could be: Pacific 97. Not because the dealers were spectacular, but because of the activities. They had a philatelic passport hunt. People ran around the hall collecting stamps and cancellations from booths. It was interactive, lighthearted, and it worked.

The Chinese stamp community is doing something right with some sources reporting attendance as high as 400,000.

I have heard that in China, this is standard. You can’t go to a show without seeing people racing to fill their passports. Why not here? It doesn’t have to be complicated and could even be done cheaply in the back of the show program. Each dealer gets a rubber stamp. They sell a cheap stamp to be stamped in the passport. The prize at the end? Make it good. Not a kids’ starter album with half the pages blank. Give them a clever, AI-generated world album that builds a map as you add stamps. Include defunct countries, flags, rulers. Make it feel like an adventure. I am thinking of a 50 page bound album with sections of various geographic region, maybe several pages of different regions of Europe, maybe half a dozen pages about why the sun never set on the British Empire, etcetera. Maybe even tie it to a website with more details, wikis for regions, stories about the history of some of these pages in the albums. I can think of several collectors who might love to work on this type of project.

Stamp albums used to teach you about the world. They could again.

After Hours: The Missing Chapter

And then, the elephant in the room: after hours. Most people at these shows aren’t locals. They’re from out of town. They want to go somewhere, meet people, unwind. Why isn’t there an official venue for that? Pick a bar, a restaurant, a pub within walking distance. Make it the official default meeting place and let everyone know. No private tables. No cliques. Just a room where anyone can join anyone.

I remember the Young Philatelic Leaders Fellowship mixer at the 2008 Hartford show. A packed room. A few prominent collectors sponsored it, collectors mingled, and it felt like a party. That’s what we need—every night.

Throw in trivia. Door prizes. An awards banquet to honor the people attending the show: longest distance traveled, largest single purchase, “best trade of the day.” Give the passport finishers an award there. Make it a celebration, not a checkout line. This doesn’t even need to be fancy, some cheap Costco pizza and sodas would be enough. The point is to have some fun outside of normal show hours.

Shows have empty meeting rooms after hours. Use them. Or partner with a local venue. But stop pretending the social side is a side dish. It’s the main course for a lot of people.

Final Thoughts from Chicago

So where does that leave this year’s GASS? In a good place, with a lot of room to grow. The crowds are still there. The interest is real. Beginners are as hungry as ever. But the infrastructure is lagging behind the times. Too much dealer-first thinking. Too little creativity about what makes a show worth traveling for.

I had a wonderful time in Chicago. I bought some great material, made new friends, reconnected with old ones, and came home full of ideas. But the lesson I keep coming back to is this: stamp shows aren’t stores with some side events. They’re gatherings. Always have been. Always should be.

I’d love to hear your take on this! What are some other simple, low-effort ways stamp shows could be made more interactive and fun? Share your ideas in the comments—I’m always looking for fresh perspectives.