Miniature enthusiasts, who dote on double entendres, have a favourite quip: It takes "very little" to make them happy.

The joke may be small, but the legions of those who love collecting, constructing and fiddling with teensy replicas of everything under the sun are enormous. They range from Queen Elizabeth II and her No. 1 son to the far-flung members of Canada's 60-plus miniaturists clubs.

Their spending accounts for an unknown but hefty part of the $29 billion US spent annually by hobbyists worldwide, according to research published by the U.S. Hobby Industry Association.

A goodly chunk of that money winds up in the cash register of The Little Dollhouse Co., which will celebrate its 30th anniversary next month. It's a vastly charming North Toronto shop that's the only one of its kind in the city, the largest in Canada and among the top 10 such stores in North America.

Brennan O'Connor, Business Edge
Maria Fowler of The Little Dollhouse Company peeks from between two of the miniature houses at her Toronto store.

Understandably, that achievement is a source of pride for owner Maria Fowler. But citing it prompts one of her trademark giggles because of the underlying irony.

The fact is, she never played with dolls or had any interest in miniatures while growing up in Russia, or after emigrating to Toronto at the age of 12. She doesn't recall even seeing a classic dollhouse until what she calls a serendipitous day in 2001.

Before then, Fowler had studied computer science at the University of Toronto and worked as a programmer and network administrator after graduating. Then she launched an entrepreneurial career as the owner of Soft Wonders, a company that marketed toys for about eight years.

Fowler had no intention of getting into retail when, driving along Mount Pleasant Road one summer afternoon, she spied a shop called The Little Dollhouse. She barely noticed the For Sale sign in its front window.

"I only went in to see if maybe they'd be interested in stocking some of my merchandise," she remembers. "But as I wandered around the store, I must have been struck by what we call 'miniaturist delecti disease.' " This malady - another example of miniaturist humour - strikes "adult children" most devastatingly, according to a fair-warning poster that now hangs on The Little Dollhouse's window. It produces such symptoms as an almost perpetual squint, a blank facial expression and a tendency to mumble scale calculations such as "one inch equals one foot."

"I just felt hit over the head by the time I left," Fowler recalls. "I had no idea how much the owner wanted for the business or how to run it. But I went home that night and told my husband we were buying a dollhouse store."

In fittingly fairytale fashion, her husband John Fowler, a computer entrepreneur she'd met at university, granted her wish. So did Little Dollhouse owner Will Jamieson the next day after Fowler offered an amount she declines to reveal, but describes as "pretty much everything we had at the time."

Et voilà, a miniature enthusiast was born. Actually, two were born, because it wasn't long before John dropped out of computers to become the shop's full-time dollhouse carpenter.

The Fowlers continued the tradition begun by Jamieson of handcrafting every completed dollhouse sold in the store. But the inventory was soon expanded to include imported, ready-to-assemble dollhouse kits and building supplies, plus - thanks to Maria's frequent buying trips around the world - thousands of furnishings and other items for dollhouse interiors.

Currently numbering more than 20,000 - and necessitating the 2003 purchase of a building across the street that tripled the floor space to about 280 sq. m - these products include a bewildering array of period and contemporary decorating materials. They range from everyday styles of lighting, wallpaper and flooring to 24 carat-gold Swarovski crystal chandeliers, 10 carat- gold-edged wall murals and sumptuous hardwood inlays.

Then there are the thousands of furniture items, as well as bathroom accoutrements from hand-painted porcelain fixtures to tiny towels and shampoo bottles, plus kitchen appliances so faithful to the real thing that there are working lights inside the fridges and ovens.

Added to this is a fascinating collection of mostly one-of-a-kind, scaled-down dolls representing as many eras and styles as the dollhouses themselves.

Much of the merchandise is displayed in glass-enclosed room vignettes ranging from period parlours complete with harps and grand pianos, to up-to-date equivalents and work settings such as a beauty salon. There's even a garage woodworking shop with tiny tools.

Almost all of these items are lovingly created original pieces produced by Canadian and international artisans whose careers are dedicated to thinking small. They include Ontario silversmith Don Henry, whose miniatures are on display at the Royal Ontario Museum; B.C. wicker expert Debi Kolenchuk; Ontario wood carver John Ottewill; and Toronto's Barb Plevan, who specializes in minute flowers and lifelike food items ranging from bread baskets to authentic-looking packaged goods such as Ritz crackers and President's Choice soft drinks.

All in all, says Fowler: "The quickest way of describing what we carry is to say that everything you can find in a real house, including people, you can find in miniature at The Little Dollhouse. We're Home Depot, Canadian Tire and DeBoer's all rolled into one, plus Leon's, because we have very inexpensive stuff, too."

Gazing around the shop, the truth of that statement is overwhelmingly evident. No wonder it attracts so many customers, whose average visits last for more than an hour. Among the miniature enthusiasts who have shopped at The Little Dollhouse are comedian Joan Rivers, Canadian actor Graham Greene and comic Whoopi Goldberg, whose photo hangs on the wall with a scrawled autograph saying "I'll be back."

Currently under construction is a model house which City of Toronto information officer Mark Cooper commissioned for use in schools. "It will help us teach kids about the proper elimination of sewage so householders don't contaminate the water system," he said.

Ask Fowler, who declines to discuss her annual revenue, how she made The Little Dollhouse such a success and you're in for a surprise. "By normal business rules, we're probably doing it all wrong with the amount of inventory we stock and the turnover. Yes, it's our business and we make money at it, but that's not the point.

"The point is that we are the major Canadian centre for miniatures and we want to carry everything our customers could possibly want, as opposed to just having stuff that sells, like a regular retail model. Actually, we kind of play for a living here. So it helps that there are equally obsessed customers to pay for our obsession."

So why are so many people so obsessed with miniatures? The passion is well documented throughout recorded history and grew into both an art form and a staple for serious collectors long ago, Fowler says.

Indeed, there are miniature hobbyist organizations all over the world, many of whom gather at shows and conventions such as Canada's largest - the Miniature Enthusiasts of Toronto, which is held every October and regularly draws about 75 dealers and more than 800 visitors, according to MET past-president Heather Murray.

"I think most people have a fascination with tiny things, with perfection, how perfect something so tiny can be, how anyone can possibly do this," Fowler says.

"But I also have a lot of people who otherwise would be redesigning their actual houses over and over again if they didn't have this outlet."

Jamieson says the same was true when he owned The Little Dollhouse.

"And I had customers say no way were they ever going to live in, say, a 12-room Georgian mansion, but they could darn well have one in miniature."

(Terry Poulton can be reached at poulton@businessedge.ca)