Categories: Technology & Culture

Century gadgets stand the test of time in disposable era

Century gadgets stand the test of time in disposable era

Century gadgets stand the test of time in disposable era

In an era when new gadgets fly off shelves and quickly become obsolete, a quieter story is unfolding along Western Australia’s coast. Century gadgets — cameras, film reels, and early video gear — are not merely relics; they’re living pieces of technology that many people still treasure, repair, and use. The long life span of these devices, paired with the memories they carry, stands in sharp contrast to a disposable-tech mindset. This is the story of collectors, repairers, and everyday users who keep history alive by valuing durability and care.

Collectors preserving the past

Ron Coald, who has loved film since childhood, has amassed a significant collection of film equipment. “I used to collect old movie film from the projector box in the Katanning cinema,” he said. “It built up from that; I bought my first camera when I was a schoolboy.” At his home in Albany on WA’s south coast, his collection spans cameras, film, and players from across the ages. “I’ve also got the first video camera that came in; you had the camera in your hand, and on your shoulder you had the recording part of it.” The items carry more than monetary value — they hold memories, stories, and a tangible link to how media evolved over decades.

From cinema to the shelves

The journey of these devices didn’t end with purchase. They persist in living rooms and workshops, ready to be revived or simply enjoyed as historical artifacts. The broader appeal is clear: century gadgets often survive because they were built with sturdier components and a design mindset that prioritized longevity over rapid obsolescence.

Repair culture breathes life into old gear

In Albany, Neil Harrison keeps busy with jobs from people like Ron Coald, choosing to repair rather than replace. He explains, “We mainly used to concentrate on audio-visual gear, but we’re finding there’s a lot of other stuff out there that does require repair.” For many, repair is about more than function; it’s sentimental value, the chance to hear a beloved record or to film with equipment that once captured milestone moments. “Sometimes it’s sentimental value, sometimes it used to work well and people want it to work well again,” Harrison adds.

Vinyl and the art of repair

Vinyl records have made a miraculous comeback, and with that revival comes a surge in repair work. Harrison notes that while modern electronics are highly miniaturised and often require circuit-board replacements, older gear remains approachable for component-level fixes. The repair shop becomes a curator of technique, offering a viable path to extending the life of cherished audio equipment.

A window from the Wheatbelt to the future

Not far from Albany, Elaine Johnson’s kitchen in Quairading—the Wheatbelt—offers a tangible example of durability in daily life. She still uses the electric mixer she bought shortly after she was married in 1972. “I was a young police woman on duty in the Hay Street Mall and I saw it being demonstrated,” Ms Johnson said. Her mixer, like many century gadgets, is more than a tool; it’s a link to a bygone era when products were built to last and families built memories around them.

Why the story matters

These threads reveal a broader cultural shift—a movement toward sustainability, memory preservation, and a hands-on approach to technology. Century gadgets show that durable design and a willingness to repair can extend a device’s life, reducing waste and enriching communities with shared histories. In the face of a disposable tech era, the Albany–Wheatbelt region hints at a growing trend: valuing repair, reuse, and the tools that once shaped daily life.