As a seasoned chess player and collector, the question of “how many chess sets does one really need?” strikes at the core of a fascinating and ongoing debate within the chess community. For many, the answer varies depending on whether you approach the game primarily as a collector or a player. Pure collectors, for example, often view their chess sets as treasures, acquiring them not out of necessity but for the joy of owning pieces of history, craftsmanship, and beauty. For them, there’s no upper limit; each new set is a new chapter, a new piece of art, and a new story to tell. Some might own antique sets dating back to the 19th century, like the Jaques chess set or vintage Lardy sets from the early Staunton era, while others hunt for limited-edition modern sets designed by contemporary artisans. For these collectors, it’s not about how many sets they need—it’s about how many they want.

On the other side of the spectrum, there are practical players who are uninterested in the historical significance or aesthetic value of the chess pieces. For them, owning just one or two sets—often utilitarian, no-frills Staunton designs—is more than enough. The set serves a purely functional purpose, designed for rigorous play and not for display. A basic tournament-quality plastic Staunton set, perhaps something like the HoS Ultimate or a standard German Knight design, is sufficient for everyday play. These players focus on the game itself, paying little attention to the style or design of the pieces beyond ensuring they’re regulation size and easy to distinguish during a match. Often, these players might also have a travel chess set—a folding magnetic board, for instance—something that’s compact and convenient.

Then there are people like me, who fall into a compelling middle ground. While I consider myself first and foremost a player, I’ve become a collector almost by accident. Over time, I’ve amassed quite an array of chess sets, each one chosen for its particular charm, design, or utility. It’s not simply about having as many as possible; rather, each set serves a distinct purpose, be it for casual games, blitz sessions, or serious tournament play. I find joy in switching between sets, each one offering a fresh and invigorating experience on the board. For instance, I might use a classic Staunton set for slower, more deliberate games, while a Dubrovnik design, with its sleeker, simpler lines, feels perfect for faster time controls.

Let’s talk about some of the sets I have in my collection, starting with the antique and vintage designs. One of my prized possessions is a Jaques (Andersen) Staunton set from the mid 19th century. This set is steeped in history—one of the earliest Staunton designs ever produced—and I treasure the craftsmanship and the sense of continuity it brings to the game. Playing with this set feels like connecting with generations of players who have come before me. Another gem is an earlier German Knubbel set from the early 1900s. The pieces are less about functionality and more about artistry, but using it on rare occasions is like playing chess in a bygone era. I also own another Jaques (Tarrasch) Staunton set from the 1870’s, which features beautifully carved pieces, and are as much a conversation piece as it is a tool for playing.

On the vintage side, I have a Lardy no.10 (4.5”) set from the mid-20th century. The French company was known for producing affordable yet beautiful chess sets in the post-war period, and the Lardy I own has that classic, iconic charm that evokes memories of old-school cafés and chess clubs. Its knights, with their signature fuller heads, offer a different tactile experience than more refined Staunton sets. Then there’s the 1970 Jaques (Fischer/Spassky) set, a design made famous in the 1972 World Championship Tournament. It’s a sister set to the sets used at the Tournament made from the same batch; its distinctive design, especially the simple knights, adds a sense of flair and excitement to any match.

In my Modern collection, I’ve gathered several sets that serve different purposes based on the style of play. For slower, more serious games, I often gravitate towards my 1849-50 Morphy Cooke chess set by “Staunton Castle“, which combines elegance with functionality. The knights in this set are finely detailed, and the weight and balance of the pieces are perfect for deep, strategic games. For faster time controls, like blitz or rapid, I lean toward my Best Chessmen Ever (stage 1) set, designed by Jonas and crafted by NOJ. This set has a minimalist yet modern aesthetic that’s ideal for quick play, offering smooth, easily distinguishable pieces that glide effortlessly across the board. The sharp, clean lines of the pieces make it easy to focus on the game without any distractions.

But my collection doesn’t stop there. I also have a NOJ 1950 Dubrovnik set, a design used in the 1950 IX. chess olympiade, held in Dubrovnik (Croatia). This set is a modern classic, crafted with meticulous attention to detail by Slovenian artisans. It’s my go-to set for special games where I want to appreciate not just the play but the beauty of the pieces themselves. Along similar lines, my Dubrovnik Mincheta set, modeled after the one used by Bobby Fischer, is another favorite. Fischer once called it his favorite chess set, and it’s easy to see why. The wide bases and smooth curves make each piece feel substantial yet sleek, and the set brings an undeniable sense of elegance to every game.

While some might argue that owning multiple sets leads to redundancy, I see it as a celebration of variety. Each chess set brings something different to the table, not just in terms of aesthetics but also in how it influences the gameplay. A fuller knight, a heavier base, the way a bishop’s miter is carved—all of these small details create subtle differences in how a game feels. The weight, balance, and texture of each piece can shift the entire experience of playing chess. My Lardy set, for example, with its bulkier pieces, feels more solid and grounded, perfect for slower, methodical games. On the other hand, my Romanian – Hungarian chess set by “IM Biró Sándor”, with its sharper and lighter weighted pieces, feels quicker and more aggressive—ideal for blitz.

In the end, collecting and playing are two sides of the same coin for me. Yes, my collection might seem excessive to some, but for me, each set has its own purpose, a specific role to play in my chess life. Whether it’s a historical connection, a design that enhances speed and focus, or just the pure joy of playing with something beautiful, each chess set brings a slightly different flavor to the game. So, how many chess sets do I really need? As long as each one offers something unique, there’s always room for just one more.