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I'm writing to you from a place of defeat. I'm not proud of it, but I'm willing to acknowledge it as fact – I gave myself nearly two months to track down the rare Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal in person, and I've returned humbled, empty-handed, and a bit concerned for the future of video game preservation.
Two months ago, I had a more Arthurian take on life. Like Sir Gawain, like Lancelot, I prepared for a quest to remember – filled with challenges and dirty subway rides around Midtown, Manhattan, sure, but also the chance to graze greatness. Except, instead of walking away with the Holy Grail or true love's kiss, I'd have the 2005 Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal, which is even better than those other things.
One small step for Hello Kitty
I'm not sure the clear console – of which there are supposedly only 550 made – was ever meant to become so legendary. Two decades after it was released, the hot pink machine recently sold for over $10,000 on eBay. It was originally created as a promotional tie-in for Hello Kitty Mission Rescue, a showdown between its titular heroine, who gets to slink around in purple rollerskates, and alien invaders shaped like pasta tubes.
So it's "a bit of an oddity," The Strong National Museum of Play director of digital preservation Andrew Borman tells me. "The license itself was different than many of the limited consoles produced for the platform, targeting a younger audience with a bright pink graphic. Also, unlike other consoles, it wasn’t directly sold, nor was it given away as a prize, but rather it required people to buy a specific, very expensive, TV from a single retailer in Singapore."
Appropriately, the Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal displays a modified version of Hello Kitty Mission Rescue's box art in a treasure-marking X across the clear Xbox's face. Hello Kitty, in her grape rollerskates, stands proudly in the bottom right corner of the X while several of her cutest friends stand in a line above the console's "Xbox" logo. With an impressive amount of foresight, the tech website Engadget commented on the console in 2005, saying "if you're not anywhere near Singapore you're gonna be relegated to shelling out a fortune on eBay someday to get your paws on one."
Commenting on my personal search for the Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal in the present, Borman tells me "it won't be easy" to find.
"Not only do you have a limited number that could have potentially sold, but we also don't know how many actually sold, with the 550 number likely representing the maximum amount available," he explains. "But as someone who is often fortunate to handle things that are one-of-a-kind, never sold or available to the public, never say never."
I recognized the risk of failure, but collecting vintage Hello Kitty merchandise has been important to me my whole life. I admit, the Crystal's rarity was like a siren's call to me when I first learned about the console a few years ago. I just can't help the squirrely part of me that sees something shiny and aches for it – when I was a kid, my career goals were "princess," and I read slim paperbacks about King Arthur's sister, Morgana, to get a sense of my future as a fairy in a castle.
I live in a two-story brownstone in Brooklyn, so that's about as close as I've been able to get to that dream so far. But, ignoring the wild auctions of the internet and hunting down the Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal in my my rat-eaten kingdom of New York City felt like a good way to connect my younger self, who hoped to discover leprechauns in her backyard, with the reality of my present self, who has some silver hairs and writes about video games. I've always wanted to be a part of something "impossible."
"Even though there are more consoles being manufactured than ever, at least in quantity sold to consumers, collectors still exist for everything," Borman tells me. "Limited editions, produced in ever-smaller quantities, allow people to have something that others don’t have, which still brings excitement."
"One thing to keep an eye on is the age of collectors," he continues, "Many people, myself included, like to have those reminders of their childhood around, and will pay to do so."
But it turns out being a tax-paying grown-up doesn't lend itself to as much awesomeness as I'd imagined. In searching for the Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal, I quickly worked through every retro game story in New York, and none of them knew what the hell I was talking about.
"The store has been in business for over 30 years," J&L Video Games, which is located near Times Square, told me in an email. "None of the staff have seen a Hello Kitty themed Xbox console. We wish you luck in your search though."
From NoHo, Videogamesnewyork agreed, writing in another email that, "While we have touched, imported and repaired many rarities, we have never come across this variant before."
As the weeks passed – sunsets melting into sunrises, my Hello Kitty stuffies looking at me with decreasing remorse – I decided to go straight to the source. Could Microsoft point me in the right direction, maybe? "This is probably not a request we can support right now," a representative told me.
OK, what about Sanrio?
"Unfortunately, the project was part of Sanrio Digital, which no longer exists," said an apologetic PR representative, "so we don't have any additional information to share." As an acceptable consolation prize, Sanrio sent me a Hello Kitty pickleball set as part of its promotion for Cinnamoroll Cloud Land on Roblox, so I guess I'll get into that this spring. Do princesses play pickleball in Central Park?
While I appreciated my new equipment for a healthy cardio sport, I started feeling dejected. I still do. My quest left me tumbling off my horse and my skirts all caked in mud. I'd never trusted myself with a sword, or a leatherbound spellbook, and although I can't face off against mermaids or skeletons, I thought I could at least handle the Hello Kitty Xbox Crystal.
Anyway, this quest – my fairytale need to conquer, for the sake of my Hello Kitty birthright – might have been doomed to fail, no matter its outcome. Full of scalpers and unfairness, the current state of video game preservation continues to fall deeper to the wayside as some studios forgo legacy for new, speculative tech like $450 consoles and generative AI – things that feel heartless, with no capacity for mythmaking. The future of game preservation looks a little grim.
"I just want to play fun games," Borman says. "As someone working to preserve the history of video games, I want the continued existence of dedicated gaming hardware. While I do think there are some benefits to cloud gaming and the like, the reality is that many of these games, reliant on external services, may become unavailable quicker than ever before. Looking even 10 years out, let alone the 100 years that we think about at The Strong, I have concerns about large pieces of history being lost."
"I do not want to see pieces of our history, our culture, lost needlessly," he continues. "I truly believe that everyone deserves a chance to play."
But I can't help but return to myths and kings – those are human products, as self-absorbed and overly confident as I've proved we can be. Reality may be disappointing, but I think that, as long as there are people like Borman around to protect people's right to play, I might as well keep myself busy with more stories. Princesses buy the 1999 limited edition Hello Kitty Dreamcast on eBay, right?
