The birth of a would-be fad

But the company's leadership believes that by giving their product away at such events they are able to forge a stronger emotional bond between owner and duck. Big events, they say, build strong memories.

"Kids who got the Jason Giambi duck at Yankees Stadium cradled it in their arms for hours," says Bob Selsky, Celebriducks' marketing manager. "That's something they'll remember for a long time."

Wolfe runs his company like a casual entrepreneur. He fields calls in a pair of shorts – no shirt. Disney paraphernalia and books are scattered throughout his home – the result of a 30-year infatuation with the company.

Before Celebriducks, Wolfe sold images from Coca-Cola and Hershey's commercials as artwork. A friend's suggestion five years ago that he get into the rubber-duck business has made him the kind of Walt Disney figure he never expected to be.

Indeed, a recent request from Disney that he submit a few Celebriduck sketches of Disney characters has given Wolfe the sense that his creative life has now come full circle.

He also has meetings scheduled with Bed Bath & Beyond, Spencer Gifts, and a few sporting-goods chains.

If his ducks are on the brink of big growth – McDonald's has shown interest as well – Wolfe believes his product is uniquely suited to accommodate the demand. "Think of how many university mascots you can do, how many company CEOs or famous singers you can do," says Wolfe. Other ideas include Supreme Court justices, authors, jazz musicians – the list goes on.

Yet the company's success partly hinges on persuading celebrities, and their lawyers, that being a Celebriduck is an honor, not a joke. The rock group Kiss, rapper Snoop Dogg, and singer James Brown are among those who have agreed to have ducks made. The Beatles, Madonna, and Frank Sinatra's estate all have demurred.

Consumers can order custom-designed ducks of, say, themselves or a friend, for about $7,000, Wolfe says.

The public's top request and one of Wolfe's most sought-after accounts is Elvis Presley. "Elvis's licensing people really like it, but they want to see where it all goes first," he says.

"We honor people by adding them to the line. It's like having a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame," says Rebecca Wolfe.

Some experts counter that the product is little more than a gimmick – and one more indication that people will buy just about anything.

Yet Craig Wolfe believes his ducks have real staying power. The flexibility of the duck "medium" allows for constant innovation.

"If you can make it wild enough, crazy enough, unique and different enough, it stays fresh," he says. "We're not taking the same theme and stuffing it with beads."

Celebriducks are not the first offbeat collectibles to make a run at mass popularity. A look at a few others, and what has happened to their bids for lasting fame.

When Edward Haas III brought his peppermint company, Pez, from Vienna, Austria, to the US in 1952, he researched how to best market his candy to Americans. He found that children were enamored of the candy dispenser he had developed in 1948. And after learning that kids weren't thrilled with breath mints, he developed fruit-flavored Pez candy and placed cartoon characters' heads - Mickey Mouse, Pop-Eye - on the dispensers. Original list price: 49 cents

Page: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4