The other day, as I was scrolling through my Instagram feed, I came upon an ad for a home-based walk-in humidor. It was designed to fit into a corner, with two walls made of floor-to-ceiling glass and a spring-loaded glass door. It looked like the humidor in a high-end cigar lounge, with full-height shelves and a display table in the middle for boxes or caddies of singles.
The animated ad took you on a virtual tour of the advanced humidification and exhaust systems, along with shelving constructed entirely of solid Spanish cedar.
My first thought after watching it was: No. Fucking. Way.
Not that I wouldn’t want one in my house. I’d love to convert my small dining room into a walk-in humidor like that. My NFW came from a much more practical place. I wouldn’t want to spend that much time managing the environment, let alone cataloguing my collection.
To be completely honest, I’ve never been obsessive about arranging, cataloguing, or humidifying my cigars. Hell! When I started smoking back in the early ’90s, I didn’t know any better and kept them in one-gallon Ziploc bags. In. The. Freezer.
As I got more serious about the hobby, I started following more conventional storage practices, especially when it came to proper humidification. As for organization, one might call my method loose. It’s not complete disarray, but compared to how many others store their cigars, you might consider my collection a bit of a jumble.
It’s kind of like a scene in the latest Shaft movie. Shaft needs to find a document, and his son, JJ, asks if he can find anything in that mess. Shaft says, “I got a system,” in reply.
That’s how I think of my cigar collection. I have a system. I may not be able to clearly explain it, but it works.
Once I started thinking about my own system, I began wondering what everyone else’s said about them. Cigar storage starts as a practical necessity, but give someone enough cigars and it’ll eventually become a personality test.
After giving this far more thought than it deserved, I arrived at three basic storage personas: The Curator, The Engineer, and The Honey Badger.
Is any of this scientific? Of course not. But it’s a great way to laugh at ourselves.
The Curator
When I think of the Curator, I think of the Sahakians of Davidoff of London: a bespoke suit from Savile Row and a waistcoat sporting the chain of an antique watch. He’s impeccably turned out and perfectly manicured. His highly buffed Oxfords glimmer in the light.
He carries himself with an aristocratic, regal bearing. But despite that, he’s warm, incredibly well-mannered, and approachable.
As for his collection, he knows exactly what he owns and where every cigar is stored. Ask for a particular cigar, and he won’t start opening lids and muttering to himself. He’ll take you straight to it.
Inside the humidor, everything is where it belongs. Boxes are lined up neatly, singles are separated and identified, and all the bands face the same direction. A cigar doesn’t go wherever there’s room. It has an address. His humidor might not be big, but it’s meticulously arranged.
The Engineer
The Engineer’s as meticulous as the Curator, but much less formal. His collection may not be perfectly arranged, but it is well-organized. And dammit! His cigars are stored properly, and he can prove it with the numerous apps and sensors that he uses to keep a 24/7 watch over his cigars.
Given that, he’s much less concerned about the appearance of his collection and totally focused on its condition. Like the Curator, he knows exactly where each and every one of his sticks is. But his cigars are organized according to the temperature and humidity conditions he considers optimal for each cigar.
Some are kept at 65°F/68% RH, while others are held at 62°F/70% RH. And it’s not random placement. He has an almost scientific approach to determining how and where every cigar in his collection is stored.
But the hell of it is that he absolutely enjoys it. It’s almost a second hobby!
The Honey Badger
The Honey Badger stores his cigars properly. He keeps the Bovedas fresh, makes sure the lids close, and considers his responsibilities fulfilled. Beyond that, honey badger doesn’t give a shit.
I’ll come clean. This is totally me.
But from thousands of conversations with different smokers over the years, I’m not alone in this persona.
There are lots of us Honey Badgers out there.
The Honey Badger isn’t indifferent about his cigars; quite the opposite. His is a diverse collection, ranging from rare and hard-to-find sticks to common everyday drivers, and he cares about every single one of them. But once the cigars are safely stored, that’s when his indifference begins.
He has no interest in cataloguing them, charting their condition, or arranging them for display. He wants cigar storage to work without becoming something else he has to manage.
He has a system, but it exists entirely in his head. His collection is divided into neighborhoods rather than addresses. Ask how many cigars he owns, and he’ll give you an estimate. Not because he doesn’t care about the number, but because he’s an unwitting accumulator.
Don’t let him fool you by saying he stores his sticks in Tupperdors for modularity. He’s constantly expanding his collection and needs more storage space, so a fixed-capacity humidor will never work for him.
Of the three personas, the Honey Badger has the least impulse control. Effective storage is important to him, but only if it can keep up with him.
Obviously, these personas are exaggerated. Most of us probably borrow a little from each, depending on how much room we have and how badly our latest purchase has disrupted the system.
There isn’t a correct persona. If your cigars are in good condition and you can eventually find the one you’re looking for, your system works.
Cigar smoking already comes with enough ritual, rules, and strongly held opinions. However seriously you take your cigars, never take the hobby so seriously that it stops being fun.
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