The life of the antique dealer is to spend money, or to more accurately acquire goods, if possible, every day of the week. Many of the women that come into my gallery think it an ideal existence. Some of the men do as well, but the women readily admit it. I have to admit to both liking and not liking the process of acquisition.
I have watched things accumulate in my life for years. Pieces, some of them rare and wonderful, often don’t sell. And that is only a part of the problem. Some of the things I buy need restoring again and again because they get moved about so much. Then there is the other side of the coin. Some things come and go with me seeing them for the briefest of moments. I like to get to know my inventory and some of it moves too quickly for me. Where is the satisfaction in that?
If the daily bread of a dealer is to buy something every day, then the mantra should be that the oldest thing in inventory should sell every day. I could live with that.