Wednesday, February 21, 2024
Who Let The Dogs Out?
Wednesday, February 14, 2024
Remains of the Day
My wife and I spent about a year recently visiting estate sales in search of items for the lake house we were building. Some productive bargain-hunting, but I found it depressing to be immersed in the detritus of some stranger's life. Estate sale outfits will stick a price tag on everything in sight, from the intriguing pieces to the gross items and the sad ones. I saw a piece of men's underwear (boxer shorts, but not my size) and a child's art creation, the latter which I purchased for one dollar in hopes of returning it to the homeowner or a relative, thinking that the sentimental must have been swept up in the estate sale person's zealous effort to clear out every last item that wasn't bolted in place. The whole experience is like picking through a days-old buffet of rotten fruit and molded cheeses to find one edible morsel. Of course, one man's trash is another man's treasure--and there is the occasional useful item, such as a glass Pyrex dish, that has not become tainted with use.
All of this got me to thinking about how furniture and other household goods make their way through this market system of second-hand belongings and how those goods are priced. As I write this, I see on my computer screen that the last trade of Microsoft (MSFT) was at $406.34, with the bid at $406.33 and the ask at $$406.36. If you wanted to buy shares, you might have to pay the ask price; if you owned shares and wanted to sell them, you might get the bid price. MSFT is the most valuable company in the world, with a market cap of some $3 trillion, and the shares are very liquid. The "tightness" of the bid/ask spread can be viewed as a measure of that liquidity. Now consider a very different situation, where you want to sell your house, and you put it on the market for $400,000. It is not likely that you would get that price--unless it is a red hot real estate market, or someone falls in love with your house and just has to have it, or unless Taylor Swift once slept there. Odds are that someone will make you an offer of, say, $375,000, which you will counter at maybe $385,000, and you'll end up selling at something less than your original $400,000 asking price. The bid/ask framework applies to many transactions, even if not explicitly stated as such. The market for houses, obviously, is not as liquid as the market for stocks.
Now imagine a fictional interior designer, whom I will call Jacques Fountainbleau (he must have a stylish and sophisticated-sounding name). Jacques loves to haunt estate sales, and at one sale he sees a chest that catches his eye. He thinks this piece will work perfectly in the home of his client, whom I will call Ophelia. Jacques will pay $400 for this chest and then clean it up and price it at $2,000 for Ophelia. He is decorating her entire house--wallpaper, paint colors, sofas, chairs, tables, etc.--and the chest is just one piece of his project. Ophelia is happy to pay Jacques a hefty sum, because she is not concerned with the prices of the individual pieces (we can think of this as a gestalt experience). She is, after all, getting a house designed by the famous (at least locally) Jacques Fountainbleau, and she is paying a price for the panache. One day Ophelia decides to downsize and sell the chest. She hires an estate sale manager, and the chest sells for $500, 30% of which goes into the estate sale manager's pocket. If you pay top dollar for a lovely piece of furniture at a highly regarded antique shop, don't expect to be able to sell it down the road at anywhere near that price.
In a similar vein, you can buy a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Champagne for about $70 at the liquor store and drink it at home. You can also go to the Windsor Court Hotel in New Orleans and pay about $150 for the same bottle. Why? Because drinking Veuve at home is just not the same as sipping Veuve in the Polo Lounge of the Windsor Court. It's all about the experience, and it's really more about psychology than it is about economics.
My wife is quite skilled when it comes to sniffing out bargains, and she demonstrated this as we shopped for lake house furnishings. I think of her approach as stripping out all of the psychology involved with shopping and putting the focus on the functional and utilitarian (it is a lake house, we used to say to each other). I see estate sales as "clearing" events, where the primary goal seems to be to get rid of all the stuff--and making any money from it is really secondary. When the situation is one where someone really wants and needs to sell, it makes for a buyer's paradise. And my wife is still going to enjoy her Veuve in the Polo Lounge, because she will definitely not be shopping for the cheapest bottle of bubbly in New Orleans.
Maybe one day some of my cherished belongings will wind up in an estate sale. And maybe when people are picking over my stuff, that line from The Big Sleep will come to mind, where General Sternwood says to Philip Marlowe: "You're looking, sir, at a very dull survival of a very gaudy life."
Life is short. Get busy. And Happy Valentine's Day!
Jim
Copyright 2024 James Brinkley Taylor, Jr.
Email me with questions, comments, or feedback:
jbrinkleytaylor@gmail.com
Wednesday, February 7, 2024
Hanging on Every Word