Of all the emails we received following our shelf promotion, one in particular kept us busy for quite a while. It came from Alfred, had five photos attached, and was five lines long:
As you can see in several photos, my father-in-law, who is now 86, is absolutely thrilled with the puzzles. He calls the large bucket-wheel loader his masterpiece. It kept him busy for four weeks.
His masterpiece. Four weeks. At age 86. We thought long and hard about what else could be added to that, and came up with just one thing: the question that keeps many people from even getting started.
The photo above shows his shelf. Motorcycles, fire trucks, a tracked vehicle, a streetcar—three whole shelves full. He built them all himself.
"Can I even do this?"
After every purchase, we ask what almost caused someone to decide against placing an order. Fortunately, the most common answer is, “Nothing—I was convinced right away.” But among those who hesitate, one concern keeps coming up: uncertainty about whether they’ll be able to do the work themselves.
This concern is completely normal. And, as we know from thousands of responses, it is unfounded in the vast majority of cases. Not because our models are simple, but because a wooden model kit doesn’t require any special talent. It requires time.
Four weeks for a bucket wheel loader sounds like a long time at first. But no one works on it for four weeks straight. You sit down in the evening, take a few steps, then get back up. And eventually, it’s done.
Jutta, 75, simply treated herself to a gift
Jutta is just as clear. Her email consisted of two sentences, but they say it all:
I'm a 75-year-old retiree who loves to do crafts, and since my birthday is coming up soon, I bought the typewriter from you.
No hesitation, no wondering if it’s still possible, no checking with anyone. She loves to tinker, it’s her birthday, so she buys herself the typewriter. We think this sense of matter-of-factness is wonderful.
She also sent a picture of what her home looks like after keeping it up like this for a few years: a floor-to-ceiling shelf, five levels, a Ferris wheel, a carousel, and entire rows of houses.
What if something does go wrong?
Then something goes wrong. That’s all part of it, too, and Andrea was kind enough to describe it to us exactly as it happened:
Three models are in the works. I'm a little nervous about those spring things. One of them already blew up in my face, and I had to request a replacement. Which, by the way, worked out great.
It contains both: genuine concern about the feathers, and the crucial follow-up. Some of them broke, she reported it, she received replacements, and she’s continuing to build. That’s the whole process.
We provide replacement parts free of charge—no questions asked and without requiring a proof of purchase. This isn't just a marketing promise; it's because a broken part would otherwise bring an entire project to a halt. And that would truly be a shame.
What these three have in common
Alfred writes about his father-in-law, Jutta writes about herself, and Andrea writes about three projects she’s working on simultaneously. What they have in common isn’t technical skill. It’s the willingness to just get started and stick with it.
An 86-year-old man who spends four weeks building a model and then calls it his masterpiece has grasped something that’s hard to convey in a product description: Value isn’t created when you unbox it. It’s created during the four weeks in between.
Where to Start When You're Unsure
If you're on the fence: Don't start with the biggest model. The typewriter Jutta bought is a good place to start for anyone who wants something mechanical without immediately putting an excavator in their living room.
Thanks to Alfred and his father-in-law, to Jutta, and to Andrea. You wrote this post for us; we just put it together.
The final part of the series is about how a single model kit turns into a collection, even though no one ever planned it that way.
Your MagicHolz
