Air Plants, Troll Dolls, and a Bit of Childhood Memory

I’ve been adding several new tillandsia species to my collection lately, and once they were all settled in, I realized I didn’t have a good way to display them. Air plants are unique because they don’t need soil, and that freedom makes them perfect for creative displays. For the other air plants in my collection, I had previously taken wire and twisted it into little hangers so they could dangle neatly in my orchid cabinets. It worked well enough, but these new ones had shapes that were different. They were mostly smaller and their leaves flare out in a way that looks almost like hair. Once I noticed that, the idea arrived all at once... Troll dolls, the plants could be their hair! It made me laugh, and once the idea settled, I knew what I had to do.

One evening, on a whim, I went on Facebook Marketplace to see if anyone nearby had trolls for sale, and sure enough, a lady not too far from me had a small group. I drove over to meet her, and she handed me a bag with two adults, a teen, and two babies. As she passed them to me, she asked what I planned to do with them. She explained that people collect trolls and she did not want to accidentally sell something rare to someone who might ruin it. When I told her I was planning to pull out their hair and replace it with air plants, she looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. Then she laughed and said it was actually a pretty neat idea. I could tell she was still deciding whether I was serious, but she wished me luck with the project, and off I went with my little group of trolls ready for their new purpose. Once I got home, I started working on them. I pulled the hair plugs out of the tops of their heads and quickly discovered that they were not all made the same way. Some had simple openings, others had more complicated fittings, and each one needed a slightly different approach. I ended up using a box cutter and a sharp edge to pry the plugs out, which worked better than I expected. After that, I used acetone to clean off the old glue, washed them thoroughly, and set them aside to dry. It was easy enough, but it felt oddly satisfying, almost like I was getting them ready for a new chapter. Now they are in my orchid cabinets, each one proudly wearing a tillandsia as a new hair‑do, and they make me smile every time I walk past.

The bag of Troll Dolls I bought off of Marketplace

I removed the hair to discover different hair sockets

Another view of the hair sockets and how different they are

The trolls with their new Tillandsia hair-dos

The expression on this one made me laugh.

Thomas Dam packaging trolls

What I found out when researching the history of troll dolls is that they have been around much longer than most people realize. Their story starts in Denmark in the late nineteen fifties with Thomas Dam, a woodworker who carved the very first troll as a gift for his daughter. The carving had a friendly, slightly mischievous expression, and people in his town loved it so much that he began making more. Demand grew quickly, and he eventually shifted from hand carved wood to rubber and plastic so he could keep up. By the early nineteen sixties, Dam trolls were being sold all over the world, and they became one of those toy crazes that seemed to appear out of nowhere and suddenly everyone had one. The sixties trolls had a very particular look. Their faces were softer, their bodies had a rounded shape, and their hair was the main feature. They came in different sizes, from tiny pocket trolls to larger versions meant for display, and they were often given as good luck charms. They did not have belly jewels or themed outfits yet. They were simple little figures with expressive faces and bright hair, and that was enough to make them popular with children and adults alike.

An original Dam doll

By the seventies, trolls were still around, although not with the same intensity as the early sixties boom. They settled into a quieter kind of popularity, showing up in gift shops and small toy aisles, and they were still sold as good luck figures. Part of their appeal came from Scandinavian folklore, where trolls were unpredictable beings who could be helpful or troublesome depending on the story. Dam softened those traits into something friendly and approachable, but the folklore roots were still there. People kept the dolls on desks and windowsills as cheerful little guardians, and that sense of myth helped them stand out from other toys of the era. Different companies produced their own versions during this time, so the designs shifted a bit, but the general look stayed the same. One of the trolls I bought for this project looks like it might be from that earlier period. The sculpting of the face, the shape of the hands, and the overall style line up with the older Dam designs, and it has that softer, simpler look that the sixties and seventies trolls were known for. It is funny to think that a toy made more than sixty years ago is now standing in my orchid cabinet wearing a tillandsia as hair, but it fits the spirit of the project. The newer trolls bring back childhood memories, and the older one carries a bit of history with it, and together they make the whole display feel like a mix of nostalgia and discovery.

An original Dam Troll doll from the 60's

An ad for Norfin Troll Dolls from the 80's

Another reason so many different troll designs appeared over the years was a long and tangled copyright controversy. Dam’s company had registered its copyright in Denmark, but when the trolls reached the United States, the paperwork was not filed correctly. That mistake opened the door for other companies to produce their own versions, and one of the biggest was Russ Berrie and Company. Russ trolls flooded the American market, and for years they outsold Dam’s originals simply because they were easier to find. Dam Things eventually sued, arguing that Russ had copied their designs, but the courts ruled that Dam’s United States copyright had not been properly secured. It was not until 2003, decades after the first trolls appeared, that Dam Things finally won a case establishing their rights. By then, the troll world had become a patchwork of styles, names, and manufacturers, which is why the trolls you find today can look so different from one another.

A Russ Berrie Troll

All of this fed directly into the collector boom that arrived in the late eighties and early nineties. Trolls were not just toys anymore. They became part of a full collecting culture. People hunted for rare versions, limited releases, unusual outfits, and older Dam models that had survived the earlier decades. Some collectors focused on Wishniks, others on Norfins, and still others on the brightly colored Treasure Trolls that filled store shelves. Troll conventions appeared, complete with trading tables and display competitions. For a while, trolls were everywhere, in magazines, on shelves, in classrooms, and tucked into the pockets of kids who believed their troll’s hair or jewel might bring a little luck. The whole thing had a feeling similar to the Beanie Babies craze that would come a few years later, with that same mix of excitement, scarcity, and the belief that certain versions might be special or valuable. Troll collectors traded lists, hunted for variations, and treated the dolls almost like tiny treasures. It was a moment when a simple toy became part of a larger cultural wave, and even though the craze eventually faded, the affection people had for trolls never really disappeared.

The belly jewels that most people associate with trolls did not appear until decades later. Those came with the Treasure Trolls line in the early nineteen nineties, which is the era I remember most clearly. Trolls were absolutely everywhere. They showed up in classrooms, birthday party goodie bags, gift shops, and those little toy aisles that always had bright, inexpensive things meant to catch a child’s attention. Their hair came in neon colors, their little plastic jewels sparkled, and they had themed outfits for just about anything you could imagine. I had one myself, and one of the trolls I bought for this project, the one with the pink jewel in its belly, is almost exactly like the one I carried around as a kid. I used to rub the jewel and make wishes, even though I knew it was not doing anything. It was one of those small childhood rituals that felt important at the time. I remember brushing its hair even though it never stayed down, and I remember how that jewel seemed like the heart of the whole toy. Seeing it again brought back memories I had not thought about in years, and it is funny how a single little figure can open that door so easily.

A collection of Treasure Trolls from the 90s

There is something enjoyable about taking old toys and giving them a new life. These trolls have lived through decades of trends, and now they are standing in my orchid cabinets holding air plants like tiny guardians. The tillandsia soften their expressions and make them look like little woodland figures. It is a simple project, but it adds personality to the space and brings together two things I enjoy, plants and small bits of nostalgia. If anyone ever finds themselves with a handful of air plants and a desire to display them in a way that feels fun, trolls make surprisingly good companions. They hold the plants well, they bring a bit of humor to the room, and they carry their own history with them. It is a small project, but it turned into a pleasant mix of craft, memory, and a little adventure in tracking down the trolls themselves.

In the end, this little project reminded me how much joy there is in simple things. A handful of air plants, a few well loved toys, and a evening of tinkering turned into something that feels both personal and lighthearted. The trolls stand there in their new roles, holding their tillandsia with a kind of cheerful determination, and every time I see them, I am reminded that creativity does not always need to be grand to be meaningful. Sometimes it is enough to follow a small idea, let it grow, and enjoy the bit of wonder it brings into the room.