From Collector to Creator: How Richard Gierlich Is Trying to Keep the Blow Mold Tradition Alive

His obsession started with his grandparents’ 48-inch Empire Santa. Then Richard Gierlich did something most collectors only dream about: he started making new blow molds.

By Curtiss Wayne Andrews

Most blow mold collectors spend their time looking backward.

We hunt for the Empire Santa that stood on somebody’s porch in 1974.

We search Marketplace for the General Foam snowman we remember from childhood.

We dig through old catalogs, inspect manufacturer markings, compare paint variations and occasionally drive an unreasonable distance because somebody posted three terrible photographs of what might be the piece we’ve been searching for.

Richard Gierlich did all of that.

Then he asked a considerably more complicated question:

What if I made one?

Not repaired one.

Not repainted one.

Not found one forgotten in somebody’s garage.

Actually made a new blow mold.

That question eventually became Richard’s Holiday Shop—and sent a lifelong collector into the decidedly less romantic world of product design, manufacturing, painting, molds, overseas production, freight, warehousing and preorders.

In other words, Richard discovered what happens before the blow mold reaches the lawn.

And his story begins exactly where so many blow mold stories begin.

At his grandparents’ house.

The Santa on the Porch

What first got you interested in blow molds?

Richard Gierlich: I first got interested in blow molds thanks to my grandparents. They had the Empire 48″ Santa that they would set on their porch every year, and as a kid, I always looked forward to seeing him.

My collection is pretty large now. I love both the new and old pieces, so I’m always looking for the newest stuff when it hits stores, but I also love finding that older piece on Marketplace or stumbling across a rare yard sale find.

That’s part of the fun of collecting for me—you never really know what you’re going to find.

That answer could have come from dozens of collectors I spoke with while researching The Glow That Won’t Go Out.

Different decoration.

Same story.

There was one at Grandma’s house.

Or Dad put one beside the driveway.

Or the neighbors had a Santa you could see glowing from the back seat of the family car.

We remember these things because Christmas decorations become landmarks in childhood.

Richard’s landmark was a four-foot Empire Santa.

And unlike many childhood decorations that disappear somewhere along the way, Richard knows exactly where that Santa is today.

The Blow Mold He Was Always Going to Inherit

Do you have a favorite piece?

Richard: Yes! My favorite is the 48″ Empire Santa I mentioned above.

Growing up, I always told my grandparents that I wanted him whenever they decided they no longer wanted him, or when the worst eventually happened.

My dad told me they originally purchased him from Sears when he was a baby, so that Santa has been part of our family for a long time.

When my grandfather passed away and my grandmother was cleaning out the house, she told me to take him home.

He stays inside now, and I love that my kids get to enjoy the same Santa that I grew up with.

Sadly, he did take a tumble inside one year and ended up with a crack in his hat, but I was able to fix him!

This is the part of collecting that price guides can’t measure.

What’s Richard’s Santa worth?

You could search completed sales.

Identify the variation.

Assess condition.

Calculate a market value.

And you’d still get the answer wrong.

Because Richard isn’t merely storing an Empire Santa.

He’s storing Christmas at his grandparents’ house.

Now his own children get to experience the same decoration.

Grandparents.

Son.

Great-grandchildren.

One plastic Santa connecting three generations.

That’s exactly why I called my book The Glow That Won’t Go Out.

Sometimes keeping the glow alive means finding a rare piece.

Sometimes it means repairing a crack in Santa’s hat.

Then Richard Decided to Make Blow Molds Himself

This is where Richard’s story takes an unusual turn.

Collectors routinely say:

“Why doesn’t somebody make this?” Like that Buc-ee blow mold we ranted about here.

Richard decided to find out.

The timing mattered.

General Foam Plastics had been one of the major names in American blow-mold manufacturing, and its products continued into the 2010s; collector documentation, for example, lists several General Foam Christmas-tree designs through 2017.

When that era ended, Richard saw both a loss and an opportunity.

How did Richard’s Holiday Shop get into making new blow molds?

Richard: I’ve always had a love for the holiday industry.

While General Foam Plastics was still in business, myself and other collectors would always complain about seeing some of the same designs year after year.

So, when they closed, I eventually found a factory in China that was willing to work with me.

I had searched all over the U.S. first, but I couldn’t find anyone who could handle everything I needed, including the design work, painting, and molding.

The first design I came up with was a snowman, and he ended up being shipped to collectors all over the world.

That’s a sentence worth reading again.

A collector designed a snowman—and copies eventually went to collectors around the world.

Richard’s public product-development work also documents concepts including a 24-inch snowman, a companion Snowlady and a large Easter sign, while his more recent reflections describe just how much he learned about manufacturing, packaging, freight, storage, pricing and the difference between people liking an idea and actually purchasing it.

Suddenly the guy searching yard sales was standing on the other side of the hobby.

He wasn’t asking:

“Who made this?”

He was asking:

“How do we make this?”

Making a Blow Mold Is the Easy Part—Except It Isn’t

There’s a romantic version of product creation that goes something like this:

Have idea.

Draw snowman.

Make snowman.

Sell snowman.

Christmas!

Richard discovered the actual version.

Design.

Engineering.

Molding.

Paint.

Minimum quantities.

Packaging.

Shipping.

Freight.

Warehousing.

Pricing.

Customer expectations.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, you presumably still need to sell the snowman.

Richard has written publicly that one attempted Grand Venture snowman revival taught him an important distinction: collectors may enthusiastically support an idea in principle but have different expectations when it’s time to purchase the finished product.

That’s something most collectors never see.

We see the finished decoration sitting on a store shelf.

We don’t see the hundreds of decisions required to put it there.

Richard says he has also collaborated with designers Justin and Jerry on future concepts.

Are more Richard’s Holiday Shop designs coming?

Richard: I currently have an Easter sign planned, but due to warehouse and storage issues, I’ve had to pause the business until I can find a new place to operate out of.

While I know the preorder model can be annoying to some people, it’s the way I operate the business.

If I receive enough preorders, the mold goes into production.

If I don’t, everyone is refunded.

It allows me to create unique pieces without ordering a huge quantity and hoping they eventually sell.

That may sound less exciting than discovering a rare Santa at an estate sale.

But it’s part of the modern blow mold story.

The companies of the golden era could manufacture enormous production runs for national retailers.

A small independent creator faces a completely different economic equation.

Richard’s preorder approach effectively asks collectors to help prove demand before committing to a production run.

It’s not simply:

Do collectors want this?

It’s:

Do enough collectors want this enough to actually buy it?

Those are very different questions.

You have to give guys like Richard credit for having the courage and fortitude to really commit to making a product like a blow mold and seeing it to market. Right before COVID, I met with a 3D printer out of Costa Mesa, CA to inquire about the possibility of creating blow mold-style Christmas ornaments. While it was certainly a cool idea and something I was interested in, I couldn’t realistically pull the trigger at that time – not knowing the real manufacturing logistics related to overseas production or the real demand.

You can now buy a blow mold Christmas ornament manufactured by Mr. Christmas at Walmart for $5.97. Oh well.

Why Are Blow Molds Back?

If you’ve been collecting for any length of time, the resurgence is impossible to miss.

Vintage pieces have become desirable collectibles.

New blow molds are appearing in stores.

Long-dormant styles are being reconsidered.

Licensed characters have brought different buyers into the category. See my article about Taz.

And younger collectors are discovering decorations manufactured decades before they were born.

Richard thinks the explanation begins with one word.

Why have blow molds become popular again?

Richard: I think blow molds have become so popular again because of the nostalgia they bring.

For a lot of people, seeing one instantly reminds them of their childhood.

It might be an older collector who remembers their parents putting them out, a younger person who remembers seeing them at their grandparents’ house, or someone who remembers their family driving around looking at Christmas light displays.

I also think the fact that companies are releasing new designs every year has helped bring more people into the hobby.

We’re seeing characters and designs that collectors have wanted for years but that were never made before.

Then you have companies like Mr. Christmas that are actually listening to collectors and bringing back nostalgic pieces.

While those pieces aren’t the originals, they still capture that feeling—especially for people who can’t find or afford an original piece.

It gives another generation the chance to experience them and make their own memories.

There’s an important point there.

Nostalgia doesn’t necessarily require the original object.

Collectors understandably value originals.

But a newly manufactured decoration can become somebody else’s original.

The blow mold a parent buys today might be the one their child desperately searches for thirty years from now.

Tradition has to begin somewhere.

The Great Blow Mold Civil War: Vintage vs. New

Every collecting hobby eventually develops rules nobody actually agreed to.

What’s authentic?

What’s collectible?

What’s worth owning?

Richard has a refreshingly simple answer:

Who cares?

What advice would you give a new collector?

Richard: The biggest advice I can give is just to have fun!

Who cares if you love the new stuff, the old stuff, or both?

A lot of people get into the hobby because they see a new blow mold in a store that catches their attention, and that’s perfectly fine. Other collectors have been around for years and only collect vintage pieces.

One thing I’ve learned from being in the hobby for a long time is that opinions are always going to be strong.

Years ago, collectors complained that we kept seeing the same older designs and wanted something new.

Now that we’re getting new molds and designs every year, you’ll sometimes hear complaints about those too!

You can’t please everyone, and that’s okay.

Don’t let someone else’s opinion about what’s “collectible” determine what you enjoy. If you like it, collect it.

I couldn’t agree more.

A hobby stops being fun remarkably quickly when you’re collecting according to somebody else’s rules.

Want nothing but vintage Empire?

Wonderful.

Love new character molds?

Great.

Want a 1960s Poloron piece standing next to something you bought last Tuesday?

Plug them both in.

Christmas will survive.

Learn the History—But Don’t Turn It Into Homework

Richard does encourage new collectors to learn.

Manufacturers.

Designs.

Production history.

Differences between molds.

Those details add another layer to collecting.

That’s also one of the reasons I wrote The Glow That Won’t Go Out.

Knowing why a decoration looks the way it does, who manufactured it and where it fits into the industry’s history can transform an interesting piece of plastic into something much more meaningful.

But Richard makes another good point.

If researching every manufacturer’s catalog number doesn’t interest you?

That’s okay too.

You don’t need to pass a certification exam before you’re allowed to put a glowing Santa in your yard.

One Thing Every New Collector Should Worry About

There is one area where Richard gets considerably less relaxed.

Online scammers.

What should collectors watch for?

Richard: The biggest thing I would tell people to look out for is scammers.

If you’re buying online and something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Don’t be afraid to ask questions, request additional pictures, or ask other collectors or group admins for their opinion before sending money.

I also recommend using PayPal Goods and Services when purchasing from someone you don’t know so that you have purchase protection if something goes wrong.

That’s particularly important when you’re hunting rare pieces.

Excitement makes people move quickly.

Scammers know it.

A photograph of a rare blow mold plus an improbably low price plus a seller insisting you need to send money right now should produce skepticism, not adrenaline.

The mold you’ve spent ten years searching for is exactly the one that can make you ignore warning signs.

Don’t.

There will always be another blow mold.

The Collector Who Crossed to the Other Side

The more I thought about Richard’s story, the more I realized why I wanted it included alongside the collector stories surrounding The Glow That Won’t Go Out.

Richard started exactly where many collectors start.

A decoration at his grandparents’ house.

He became a collector.

He learned the manufacturers.

He hunted vintage pieces.

He bought new ones.

And then he crossed an invisible line.

He became part of the process that creates the objects future collectors might someday hunt.

That’s remarkable when you think about it.

Somewhere, a Richard’s Holiday Shop snowman may be standing in a family’s Christmas display right now.

A child sees it every December.

Maybe that child loves it.

Maybe twenty-five years from now that person is scrolling through whatever replaces Facebook Marketplace, desperately trying to find another one.

And perhaps they’ll finally locate it.

They’ll plug it in.

It will glow.

And suddenly they’re eight years old again.

That’s how this works.

Richard inherited the Santa that once stood on his grandparents’ porch.

Now he’s helped create decorations that could become somebody else’s version of that Santa.

The technology changes.

The manufacturers change.

The collectors change.

But the reason these strange illuminated pieces of plastic matter?

That hasn’t changed very much at all.

Richard said it best:

Collect what makes you happy.

Because at the end of the day, that’s what the hobby should be about.

And every once in a while…

someone who loves collecting them decides to make one too.

The Story Continues in The Glow That Won’t Go Out

The Glow That Won’t Go Out: The Complete Collector’s Guide to Vintage Holiday Blow Molds by Curtiss Wayne Andrews explores the manufacturers, history, identification, restoration and collecting culture behind America’s glowing holiday decorations.

It’s also about something larger:

How one generation’s Christmas decorations become the next generation’s memories.

And Richard Gierlich’s journey—from his grandparents’ Empire Santa to creating new blow molds of his own—is a pretty wonderful example of why that glow isn’t going anywhere.

Go to his shop today and look around.

Dear Buc-ee’s: Where the Hell Is the Christmas Beaver Blow Mold?

You’ve put the Beaver on shirts, mugs, pajamas, ornaments and a six-foot inflatable. It’s time to give America the glowing plastic rodent it deserves.

By The Unknown Critic on behalf of Curtiss Wayne Andrews

I have a question for Buc-ee’s.

And frankly, I’m disappointed that I even have to ask it.

Where the hell is the Buc-ee Christmas blow mold?

Seriously.

How has this not happened?

This is a company that has spent more than four decades perfecting the science of putting a cartoon beaver on absolutely anything capable of accepting ink, embroidery, plastic, fabric or adhesive.

Walk into a Buc-ee’s and you’ll find the Beaver staring at you from shirts.

Hats.

Cups.

Blankets.

Coolers.

Christmas ornaments.

Plush toys.

Dog toys.

Kitchen accessories.

Seasonal merchandise.

And enough other branded objects to suggest that somewhere deep beneath Buc-ee’s corporate headquarters there’s a Department of Beaver Deployment whose sole responsibility is identifying surfaces that do not currently contain a cartoon rodent.

And yet I cannot buy a four-foot, internally illuminated polyethylene Buc-ee Beaver for my front lawn.

This is unacceptable.

Not mildly disappointing.

Not a missed opportunity.

A fundamental breakdown in American merchandising.

Buc-ee’s Has Already Put the Beaver on the Lawn

Here’s what makes this even more baffling.

Buc-ee’s has already crossed the Rubicon.

There has been a six-foot Buc-ee’s Holiday Beaver inflatable.

That’s right.

Somebody inside the Buc-ee’s merchandising universe looked at the Beaver and correctly concluded:

“People need a gigantic illuminated version of this thing standing outside their houses at Christmas.”

Excellent instinct.

No notes.

But then they chose an inflatable.

An inflatable?

Buc-ee’s, you chose the wrong plastic.

Nothing against inflatables. They’re fun. They’re enormous. They’re easy to store.

But we’re talking about Buc-ee’s.

Since when does Buc-ee’s care about something being easy to store?

This is a company whose modern travel centers can approach 75,000 square feet.

You can buy brisket, fudge, jerky, home décor and Beaver Nuggets while fueling your truck outside at what appears to be a gasoline terminal designed for evacuating a small nation.

And this is the company that decided its Christmas decoration needed to fold neatly into a box?

No.

I reject the premise.

The Blow Mold Is Basically Buc-ee’s in Decoration Form

Think about what makes a classic Christmas blow mold great.

It’s colorful.

It’s nostalgic.

It’s slightly ridiculous.

It’s unapologetically cheerful.

It takes up too much room in the garage.

Your wife asks why you bought another one.

You tell her she’ll understand when it’s illuminated.

She does not.

And most importantly, you can see the thing from the highway.

If that doesn’t describe Buc-ee’s brand philosophy, I don’t know what does.

Buc-ee’s doesn’t whisper.

There isn’t a tasteful little wooden sign beside the interstate saying:

“Refreshments available approximately seven miles ahead.”

There are giant billboards featuring a buck-toothed beaver telling you that salvation, barbecue and a remarkably clean restroom are approaching.

Subtlety left the building several exits ago.

That’s why a Buc-ee’s blow mold makes so much sense.

Not a tasteful 14-inch tabletop decoration, either.

I’m talking about four feet minimum.

Ideally five.

A giant smiling Beaver in a Santa hat, internally illuminated, standing beside your driveway like the patron saint of road trips.

And Make It Heavy

Here’s another request.

Don’t make this thing convenient.

I want old-school blow mold inconvenience. Think Poloron.

I want somebody to buy one at Buc-ee’s and then realize it doesn’t fit in the trunk.

That’s part of the experience.

I want a family standing in Parking Space 384 on December 3rd trying to determine whether Dad’s luggage or the four-foot Beaver gets the back seat.

Dad already knows the answer.

Sorry, kids.

Christmas Buc-ee rides shotgun.

That’s the kind of product we’re talking about.

I want people driving down I-35 with a giant plastic beaver visible through the rear window.

I want truckers radioing each other:

“You seeing this guy?”

“Affirmative. Giant Beaver. Santa hat.”

“Copy that.”

That’s America.

Blow Molds Were Made for Characters Like Buc-ee

The frustrating part is that there’s historical precedent for this.

During the later years of America’s great blow mold era, manufacturers realized that familiar characters translated beautifully into illuminated lawn decorations. Remember that $900 Taz a few blogs back?

Suddenly the traditional world of Santas, snowmen, candles and Nativity figures collided with pop culture.

Licensed characters appeared.

Cartoon characters appeared.

Holiday crossovers appeared.

And today, some of those strange character blow molds have become exactly the pieces collectors hunt for.

Why?

Because they’re unmistakable.

Nobody sees a giant illuminated cartoon character in someone’s garage and says:

“Hmm. I wonder what that is.”

You know immediately.

Buc-ee would be perfect.

Big round head.

Huge smile.

Red cap.

Recognizable silhouette.

He’s practically been waiting to become a blow mold since 1982.

Buc-ee’s Isn’t Really a Gas Station Anyway

This is where we need to acknowledge something.

Calling Buc-ee’s a gas station at this point is like calling Disneyland somewhere to buy a churro.

Technically accurate.

Wildly insufficient.

Buc-ee’s started in Texas in 1982, but the modern version has evolved into something else entirely.

It’s a roadside attraction that happens to sell gasoline.

People take pictures there.

People wear Buc-ee’s shirts hundreds of miles from the nearest Buc-ee’s.

Families build road-trip stops around it.

The Beaver himself appears as a costumed character.

There’s branded food, souvenirs, home goods and enough merchandise to make you temporarily forget that you originally stopped because the fuel light came on 23 miles ago.

And that’s precisely why I included Buc-ee’s in my book, 100 Wacky Wonders: The Unknown Critic’s Snarky Sojourn Through America’s Top Roadside Oddities.

Because Buc-ee’s belongs to one of my favorite American traditions:

Making something unnecessarily enormous and then putting a gift shop next to it.

America Has Always Been Good at This

We have giant balls of twine.

Oversized dinosaurs.

Enormous chairs.

Giant peanuts.

Massive roadside animals.

Buildings shaped like things buildings should not be shaped like.

Mystery spots.

World’s largest this.

World’s smallest that.

And for generations, American families have pulled off the highway because someone in the car yelled:

“WHAT IS THAT?”

That’s the entire philosophy behind 100 Wacky Wonders.

The great American road trip isn’t merely about arriving somewhere.

It’s about the bizarre stuff you encounter along the way.

And few modern businesses understand that better than Buc-ee’s.

You don’t merely stop there.

You experience it.

So imagine the potential of a product that combines America’s roadside-kitsch tradition with America’s vintage-holiday-decoration tradition.

It’s perfect.

Start With Christmas Buc-ee

The first one is obvious.

Christmas Buc-ee.

Approximately 48 inches tall.

Classic pose.

Red Santa hat replacing—or perhaps fitting over—the Buc-ee’s cap.

Maybe a strand of Christmas lights wrapped around him.

Warm internal illumination.

Heavy-duty plastic.

Outdoor rated.

Done.

I will accept no consulting fee for this idea.

You’re welcome.

But that’s only Year One.

Because once you’ve entered the blow mold business, Buc-ee’s, you don’t get to leave.

Year Two: Beaver Nuggets Buc-ee

Now he’s holding a bag of Beaver Nuggets.

Collectors immediately need him because he’s different from Year One.

This is how it starts.

Year Three: Cowboy Christmas Buc-ee

Cowboy hat.

Santa suit.

Maybe boots.

Don’t overthink it.

Year Four: Halloween Buc-ee

Now things get serious.

Jack-o’-lantern in one hand.

Cape.

Maybe little vampire teeth protruding beneath the already enormous beaver teeth.

You release 10,000.

People lose their minds.

Facebook Marketplace becomes unusable for 72 hours.

Someone buys six and lists them online for $599 each before leaving the Buc-ee’s parking lot.

Civilization continues.

Then You Number Them

This is where Buc-ee’s can turn my ridiculous suggestion into an actual collectible program.

Put the year on the bottom.

2027 CHRISTMAS BEAVER

Next year, change the pose.

Never reproduce the exact sculpt.

Suddenly you’ve created an annual tradition.

People who bought the first one will want the second one.

People who missed the first one will complain about it on collector forums for the next 17 years.

This is how collectibles work.

Scarcity plus nostalgia plus plastic equals adults behaving irrationally.

I say that lovingly.

Imagine Finding One in 2057

This is my favorite part.

Picture an estate sale thirty years from now.

Some collector walks into a garage.

Old Christmas decorations everywhere.

Plastic totes.

Extension cords.

Artificial wreaths.

And then, behind a folding table, he sees it.

Red hat.

Buck teeth.

Faded paint.

A little dusty.

Original 2027 Buc-ee’s Christmas Beaver blow mold.

His heart rate increases.

He picks it up.

Checks the bottom.

Original light cord.

No cracks.

Hat still has good color.

He tries not to look excited because the estate-sale guy is watching him.

“How much for the beaver?”

“Twenty bucks?”

The collector hands him the money so quickly he nearly creates a sonic boom.

That night he posts it online.

HOLY GRAIL FIND.

That’s how this stuff happens.

The collectibles people obsess over decades later aren’t always the objects somebody carefully manufactured to become collectibles.

Often they’re the ridiculous things nobody thought to save.

Which Is Why Buc-ee’s Is Perfect

A Buc-ee’s blow mold wouldn’t need an explanation.

It combines several wonderfully American obsessions at once:

Road trips.

Christmas.

Oversized things.

Cartoon mascots.

Collecting.

Nostalgia.

Plastic lawn decorations.

And buying something completely unnecessary because it makes you happy.

That’s practically the Declaration of Independence.

And Buc-ee’s already understands this better than most companies.

Founder Arch “Beaver” Aplin has described the company’s branding philosophy as intentionally fun. His logo, after all, is a buck-toothed cartoon beaver wearing a baseball cap.

You cannot build your corporate identity around that animal and suddenly become restrained when we get to lawn decorations.

You started this, Buc-ee’s.

We’re merely asking you to finish it.

Build the Beaver

So here’s my proposal.

Buc-ee’s:

Call whoever still knows how to manufacture a proper blow mold. Find Gemmy Industries. Do something, damn it.

Make the tooling.

Give us four feet of glowing polyethylene Beaver.

Put him in a Santa hat.

Sell him only at Buc-ee’s.

Make him inconveniently large.

Make families rearrange their luggage.

Make collectors drive across state lines.

Make people argue about whether the 2028 version was better than the 2027 sculpt.

Make some poor employee bring another pallet out from the stockroom while 34 grown adults wait beside the seasonal display.

You’ve already made the inflatable.

You’ve already put the Beaver on practically everything else.

Finish the job.

Because America doesn’t need a four-foot internally illuminated plastic beaver wearing a Santa hat.

America didn’t need giant dinosaurs beside highways.

America didn’t need the world’s largest ball of twine.

America didn’t need a 75,000-square-foot travel center where you can purchase brisket, fudge, gasoline and a beaver-emblazoned blanket during the same transaction.

That’s never been the point.

Some things deserve to exist simply because somebody had the magnificent lack of restraint required to make them.

Build the blow mold, Buc-ee’s.

We’ll find room in the car.

More Wacky America From The Unknown Critic

Buc-ee’s is only one stop in 100 Wacky Wonders: The Unknown Critic’s Snarky Sojourn Through America’s Top Roadside Oddities — a tour through the oversized, bizarre, inexplicable and wonderfully unnecessary attractions that make the American road trip worth taking.

Because sometimes the best part of traveling isn’t where you’re going.

It’s the giant fiberglass thing you weren’t expecting to find on the way.

From Yard Relic to Retail Revival: How Gemmy Helped Blow Molds Glow Again

Vintage blow molds disappeared from store shelves. Collectors kept the flame alive. Then a new generation discovered that hollow plastic Santas, ghosts and snowmen still had plenty of life left in them.

There was a time when spotting a light-up plastic Santa in somebody’s yard didn’t require explanation.

He was simply Christmas.

The snowman stood beside him. Candles flanked the front door. A choir boy glowed near the shrubs. At Halloween, jack-o’-lanterns and witches took over. They weren’t called “retro décor,” “nostalgia pieces” or even “collectibles.”

They were decorations.

Then something interesting happened.

They disappeared.

And now, walk through the seasonal department at Lowe’s, browse Target or Walmart online, or wander through the holiday merchandise at other major retailers and you’ll see something that would have seemed unlikely 15 years ago:

The blow mold is back.

Not necessarily the blow mold your grandparents bought.

Not necessarily the one collectors are driving three hours to rescue from an estate sale.

But unmistakably its descendant.

And few companies have played a more interesting role in that comeback than Gemmy Industries.

The Blow Mold Never Really Died

To understand today’s revival, you first have to understand what vanished.

The golden-age holiday blow molds produced by companies such as Empire, General Foam, Union Products and others became fixtures of American yards during the second half of the twentieth century.

Their appeal was beautifully simple.

Hollow molded plastic. Painted details. A light inside.

Plug one in after sunset and an ordinary piece of plastic suddenly came alive.

But changing tastes, manufacturing economics and the rise of newer decorating technologies gradually transformed the seasonal aisle. Giant inflatables, LEDs, projections and animated decorations offered retailers entirely new categories of holiday spectacle.

Ironically, one of the companies most responsible for changing that landscape would eventually become an important player in bringing the blow mold aesthetic back.

Enter Gemmy

Gemmy didn’t begin as a blow mold company.

Founded in 1984, its first product line was actually ballpoint pens. The company moved into novelty products and eventually became famous for something that anyone alive around the turn of the millennium probably remembers:

Big Mouth Billy Bass.

Yes.

The singing fish.

In 2001, Gemmy introduced its Airblown inflatable line. Those self-inflating yard decorations fundamentally changed seasonal decorating. Suddenly homeowners could put an enormous Santa, snowman or Halloween monster in the yard and collapse the whole thing into a box afterward.

Gemmy followed with LightShow products, projection technology, animated figures and smart lighting.

For traditional blow mold collectors, there is a delicious irony here.

The company that helped usher America into the giant-inflatable era would eventually help introduce another generation to molded plastic yard decorations.

The New Blow Mold Arrives

By the 2010s, something had changed culturally.

Nostalgia was becoming a major force in holiday decorating.

People who remembered the Christmas decorations of the 1960s, ’70s, ’80s and ’90s were now homeowners themselves.

Estate-sale hunters were discovering old Empire Santas.

Facebook groups connected collectors.

Photos of enormous vintage displays circulated online.

Shows like The Great Christmas Light Fight popped up and you could see huge collections alive in living color on your 4K flatscreen television.

Suddenly that glowing plastic snowman didn’t look outdated.

It looked wonderful.

Gemmy moved into vintage-inspired blow molds during this period. Collector documentation places its early modern blow mold production in the 2010s, with the line expanding significantly later in the decade.

And eventually Gemmy began doing something the old manufacturers rarely could:

Combining the visual language of the traditional blow mold with modern licensed pop culture.

The Grinch.

Rudolph.

Mickey and Minnie.

Jack Skellington.

Oogie Boogie.

Frosty.

Star Wars.

Casper.

Suddenly the blow mold wasn’t merely being reproduced.

It was evolving.

Lowe’s and the New Blow Mold Aisle

Walk into Lowe’s during the right part of the holiday season and the influence is obvious.

Gemmy has developed numerous exclusive blow mold offerings for the retailer. Its 2024 Lowe’s Christmas assortment, for example, included 24-inch Santa, snowman, elf, penguin, teddy bear and Nativity figures.

The following year brought items that would have been almost unimaginable during the Empire era: a four-foot Grinch, Casper holding a jack-o’-lantern, Jack Skellington and Oogie Boogie, and even a Christmas Stormtrooper holding a candy cane.

Read that last sentence again.

A Stormtrooper Christmas blow mold.

Somewhere, an Empire Plastics Santa just felt a disturbance in the Force.

The 2026 Lowe’s seasonal assortment continues to list modern blow molds, including Gemmy’s Jack Skellington and Oogie Boogie designs alongside other manufacturers’ pieces.

Meanwhile, Target currently lists Gemmy blow mold-style products ranging from licensed Halloween characters to Frosty the Snowman. Its Frosty, for example, is a 24-inch internally illuminated figure explicitly described as using “classic blow mold construction.”

And Walmart now maintains entire shopping categories around modern Halloween blow mold décor, including pumpkins, ghosts, mummies, black cats and haunted-house designs.

This isn’t an obscure collector phenomenon anymore.

The style has returned to mainstream retail.

Vintage vs. New: What’s Actually Different?

This is where collectors occasionally start fighting.

Mention modern blow molds in the wrong Facebook group and you’ll discover that people can become remarkably emotional about illuminated polyethylene.

So let’s settle something.

New blow molds aren’t vintage blow molds.

They aren’t supposed to be.

A genuine decades-old Empire, General Foam or Union piece has characteristics a new retail decoration cannot manufacture on demand.

Age.

Production history.

Regional associations.

Old manufacturing techniques.

Paint wear.

Variations.

Scarcity.

And, most importantly, provenance.

That faded Santa at the estate sale may have spent 35 Christmases standing beside the same family’s driveway.

You can’t injection-mold that history.

The Plastic Tells a Story

Older blow molds can also feel physically different.

Collectors learn to notice plastic thickness, translucency, seams, paint application, light openings, manufacturer markings and even the particular way a figure glows.

That knowledge is enormously useful when identifying an unmarked piece—which is one reason I devote significant attention to those details in The Glow That Won’t Go Out.

Modern production is designed around modern manufacturing, safety requirements, shipping, retail pricing and contemporary lighting.

Many newer figures employ LEDs rather than the simple incandescent lighting associated with older pieces. Gemmy’s current Frosty, for example, uses an energy-efficient internal LED.

That changes the experience.

Not necessarily for better.

Not necessarily for worse.

Just differently.

The Biggest Difference May Be the Design Philosophy

Vintage manufacturers generally created holiday archetypes.

Santa.

Snowman.

Angel.

Candle.

Toy soldier.

Witch.

Ghost.

Pumpkin.

Carolers.

Nativity figures.

Modern manufacturers still make those—but licensing has radically expanded the vocabulary.

Today’s blow mold can be a traditional Santa standing beside Darth Vader’s employee.

That matters.

Because licensed characters may be one of the best gateways into the hobby.

A 19-year-old Nightmare Before Christmas fan might buy a Jack Skellington blow mold because she loves Jack.

Then she notices an old General Foam ghost at an antique mall.

Then an Empire pumpkin.

Then a Union Products witch.

And suddenly she owns 47 illuminated pieces of plastic and is explaining to her family why the guest bedroom is now called “seasonal storage.”

Congratulations.

A collector has been born.

What About the Blow Molds at Cracker Barrel?

Stores such as Cracker Barrel are interesting because they illustrate another branch of the same nostalgia economy.

The appeal of old-fashioned seasonal décor isn’t limited to exact reproductions of vintage lawn figures. Retailers increasingly sell holiday products designed to evoke the same emotional territory: classic Santas, glowing pumpkins, nostalgic tabletop decorations and retro Christmas imagery.

That’s an important distinction for collectors.

“Vintage-inspired” does not mean vintage.

“Blow mold style” does not necessarily mean traditionally blow molded.

And “looks like Grandma had one” definitely does not mean Grandma actually had one.

If you’re collecting rather than simply decorating, flip it over.

Look for marks.

Look for labels.

Check construction.

Research the manufacturer.

Don’t date an object based solely on its aesthetic.

A decoration manufactured last Tuesday can be extremely convincing after somebody gives it a faux-1957 paint job.

So Are New Blow Molds Collectible?

Absolutely.

But they’re collectible for different reasons.

Some collectors pursue discontinued modern pieces.

Others collect licensed characters.

Some want every variation in a particular Gemmy series.

Retail exclusives can develop their own following.

Certain designs sell quickly and become difficult to find after the season.

The 2025 Gemmy Casper debut, for example, was described by Halloween Daily News as one of that year’s most sought-after new pieces.

Will today’s $60 blow mold become tomorrow’s $400 treasure?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

And that’s the wrong reason to buy it anyway.

Buy it because when you plug it in, you like what happens next.

That’s how most vintage collections started too.

New Doesn’t Diminish Old

I think collectors sometimes make the mistake of viewing modern reproductions as competition for vintage pieces.

I see the opposite.

Every new blow mold sitting under fluorescent lights at Lowe’s introduces the form to somebody who may never have seen an Empire or General Foam original.

Every new Grinch or Jack Skellington creates another opportunity for someone to discover why collectors get excited about a faded Santa manufactured before they were born.

Gemmy isn’t recreating the original blow mold era.

Nobody can.

That world existed because of a particular combination of American manufacturing, postwar consumer culture, suburban expansion, department stores and the wonderfully excessive holiday decorating tastes of several generations.

But companies such as Gemmy are proving something collectors already knew:

The basic idea still works.

Make a hollow plastic character.

Put a light inside.

Wait until dark.

Watch people smile.

More than half a century later, that’s still the trick.

The Glow Really Won’t Go Out

That’s ultimately why I called my book The Glow That Won’t Go Out.

The story of the blow mold isn’t simply the story of old plastic decorations.

It’s the story of persistence.

Companies disappeared.

Factories closed.

Molds changed hands.

Decorating trends moved on.

Inflatables arrived.

Projectors arrived.

Smart lights arrived.

And yet somewhere along the way, people began rescuing those old Santas from trash piles. Hat tip to Brandon (who you meet in the book).

They hunted down missing bulbs.

They repaired cracked plastic.

They compared base markings.

They drove across state lines for snowmen.

They built online communities.

And eventually retailers noticed.

Now the grandchildren of the original blow mold generation can walk into a big-box store and leave carrying a brand-new glowing plastic figure.

It isn’t 1974 again.

It shouldn’t be.

But when that new snowman lights up beside a weathered Empire Santa that’s been glowing for 50 years, something wonderful happens.

You can see the entire history of the hobby standing together in one yard.

Old glow.

New glow.

Same magic.

And judging by what’s showing up on store shelves again, the glow isn’t going anywhere.

Curtiss Wayne Andrews is the author of The Glow That Won’t Go Out: The Complete Collector’s Guide to Vintage Holiday Blow Molds, exploring the manufacturers, history, identification, restoration and collecting culture behind America’s illuminated holiday icons.