Sandylion Stickers creators Sandy, left, and Lionel Waldman first met in 1960, when Sandy was just 21 and Lionel 23.The Globe and Mail
Lionel Waldman never goes anywhere without his stickers.
When the 88-year-old leaves his home, he makes sure – double-sure – that there are stickers tucked into his wallet and pockets. This way, if he passes a child at a playground or park, he can give them a sheet of stickers. Kid crying on the plane? Stickers. At a restaurant? He’ll ask his waiter, “Did you ever collect the fuzzies?” And if they say yes, they get stickers, too.
Mr. Waldman and wife, Sandra, 86, are hardly household names. If you passed them on the street, they might seem like any other elderly couple, albeit an exceptionally dapper one. But, when you put their names together – Sandy and Lionel – they might suddenly become a very, very, very big deal.
“Sometimes, people cry,” Lionel said. “They’ll say, ‘I can’t believe you’re Sandylion. You bring back such wonderful memories.’”
Throughout the eighties and nineties, Sandylion grew into a 300-plus employee company that exported stickers to 60 countries around the world.
For kids who grew up in the 1980s and ’90s, the name “Sandylion” meant, simply, stickers. To these kids, Sandylion, the company the Waldmans built, is as immediately evocative a brand as Beanie Babies or Game Boy. Throughout the eighties and nineties, Sandylion would grow into a 300-plus employee empire that exported stickers to 60 countries around the world. Before stickers were a thing, they made stickers into a thing.
And it all started from the Waldman family’s basement in Toronto.
The couple first met in 1960, when Sandy was just 21 and Lionel 23. For their first date, they went to see Phyllis Diller perform at the O’Keefe Centre.
Lionel had lost his dad as a teenager, and the family business (which manufactured chenille blankets) went bankrupt. “I had two nickels in my pocket,” he said. He had to borrow a car from a friend just to take her out.
Still, Sandy was smitten. “He was very handsome. And tall.” (These days, she likes to joke that she accidentally shrunk him in the wash.)
They fell in love. “And that,” she said, “was the beginning of my life.”
For the first decade of their marriage, they both had a variety of jobs ‐ Sandy doing bookkeeping for her father’s lighting business, and Lionel working for a belt manufacturer, and then as a salesperson for Mattel. “I was fired from about five jobs,” he said.
Lionel with a Sandylion Stickers catalogue.
Eventually, they had the idea to follow in the footsteps of one of Ms. Waldman’s relatives, who ran a label-printing company in the United States. In 1976, they started Labelad, using a “rinky-dink two-colour press” and a bridge table that Sandy set up in a basement office.
Then, a few years later, another idea. On a trip to California, Sandy saw a woman who was selling novelty stickers. It was such a simple concept: basic designs, such as hearts and stars, printed on large rolls of paper. But to Sandy, the potential was obvious.
“It doesn’t matter what age you are, stickers have a place in your life,” she said. “An invitation. A letter. A reward from a teacher.”
So, in 1981, Sandylion was born. For their first trade show, they drove down to New York with their station wagon stuffed with stickers. By the end of the show, they’d written up more than $30,000 worth of orders.
“People were standing in line,” said Lionel. “They were asking, ‘Where have you been?’”
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The sticker business would eventually grow to a staff of 13 full-time artists and a giant factory in Markham, Ont. They experimented with different materials, printing on glossy kromekote and developing “fuzzies” – puppies, kittens and pandas that felt as soft to the touch as they looked. And they signed licences to print stickers of big brands such as Disney and Nickelodeon.
Most importantly, in the eyes of the most important arbiters – school-aged children – Sandylion became the standard-bearer for quality. No matter if it was a pearly holograph, a syrupy-grape scratch-n-sniff or one of “the fuzzies,” schoolyard rules dictated that Sandylion stickers were the best of the best.
Kids across the country collected Sandylion stickers in Sandylion sticker books. Joined the Sandylion stickers fan club. Dragged their parents to the Sandylion store in Markham.
Sandy and Lionel’s business eventually grew to a staff of 13 full-time artists and a giant factory in Markham, Ont.
Still, by the early aughts, the company was struggling. They faced a weak Canadian dollar, and competition from China. Many of their clients, mom-and-pop stores, were replaced by big-box stores that sourced instead from the competitors.
And, critically, the wave of millennial children who had fuelled the sticker craze grew up. They moved on instead to collecting Nintendo games and CDs for their Discmans.
“It made no point to continue going,” Sandy said. “As far as we were concerned, stickers were dead.”
The Waldmans sold Sandylion in 2010 to Trends International, a Mississauga-based company. And then the couple retired.
Sitting in the living room of their plush condo one recent evening, Lionel sifted through a box from his office. Their home was filled with orchids, glittering silverware, and art − including several Jack Bush paintings ‐ that Sandy has collected over the years.
And, of course, there were stickers. Rolls of them under the desk. Stacks of them in the bathroom, even, lined along the shelves.
@allidoes1 Heres the story of how my grandparents started Sandylion Sticker Designs. Comment below if you have any Sandylion memories you would like to share!! #sandylionstickers #sandylion #nostalgia #80snostalgia #90snostalgia #2000snostalgia #sticker #fyp #foryoupage #entrepreneur ♬ Little Little Things – Cheyank
“My husband’s life is stickers,” Sandy said. “There’s not another business I can think of that can bring as much joy.”
A few months ago, their granddaughter Allison posted a video about them on social media. It has been viewed more than one million times, and elicited thousands of responses.
The new wave of attention it brought to the couple has been – especially at this stage in their lives – an unexpected gift.
“I don’t know what propelled us to the top of the mountain. But honest to God, I marvel at it,” Sandy said.
“I just think, ‘Aren’t we lucky? Aren’t we lucky that this happened?’”
