A Novice Antique Collector Falls for a Desk

I took a very undistinguished path to collecting. In the midst of hooking up with a former co-worker, I looked across his living room and saw this remarkable desk. It was massive, made of dark wood which was carved in a pattern that was intricate and extensive but not pretty. I had always found him attractive but not known him. I'd seen him around the halls and after a while he wasn't there anymore. After another while I wasn't there anymore either. Our chance meeting was just a funny thing that happened after work one day. His pickup line was simple: I have much better wine than this at home. And off we went. He was gorgeous, a little older, a little smarmy, just right for a frolic.

But when I saw that desk I thought: "I can't believe he chose something this substantial." I hadn't noticed much going on behind those eyes. I asked him where he got it and he said: "At Freeman's the auction house. They've got great stuff there." I had walked by it many times but never thought to stop in even when I saw the exhibition flag flying. It reminds me now of the Seinfeld episode where Elaine is talking about an evening she spent with a lawyer and Jerry says "But you yada yadaded over the best part " and she says "Oh no, I mentioned the bisque." For me it was the desk.

And he was right to suggest Freeman's to me. I first attended the monthly estate sales and there was a range of older items and some antiques and I started small. I bid on a 78" strand of pearls. I took home two tea pots. Then two lithographs. My favorite auctions were the books, drawings and ephemera. I bought a collection of books on Pennsylvania architecture as a birthday present for a friend. A 1940's photograph of a boxer named Jersey Joe Walcott, posing with the kitchen staff at the famous Bookbinder's seafood restaurant, hung in my kitchen. I bought red and blue stained glass panels as a nod to my alma mater.

And then I found my own massive piece of furniture: a creamy white and gold wooden dressing table. It was as long as I am tall. It had a little rectangular stool with a white and pink striped silk cushion. And there were three mirrors. When I sat there I felt so serious and beautiful and grounded. Here was a place to create and consider myself. It had four drawers, one for mail, stationery and a calculator, one for makeup and pills. One for lacy under things. One for my camera. The drawers were fitted and curved and feminine and held the little pieces I cobbled together into a person before leaving the house each day.

I never really thought about the people who owned these things before me. It was just fascinating to see and hold solid, heavy, versions of things that are made cheaply now. It was fun to give these items a new life in a new home, a form of recycling I could really embrace. Also, there was this exploration of value, which items was I responding to and how much was I willing to pay for them. Then there were other bidders to factor in, in the room, live on the phone and even the internet. The last two groups have staff members relaying their bids in real time.

The pace of an auction is brisk and it's easy to get ahead of yourself, that is, bidding on a number of early inexpensive lots then finding something later on that you would rather have than the rest put together. It is really important to go to the preview exhibition and inspect the hundreds of items, that way you will know which lot numbers to wait for and are not tempted to blow your budget early on. I don't buy things because I think they will appreciate in value. I buy things I will use. But are plenty of people who resell items after they purchase them and this could be living for someone who knows the market for antiques. Either way, it is a hobby that can recreate your surroundings bit by bit and spark your imagination.