On estate sales
Woof. It's been a minute.
I recently been in the midst of a Large Life Transition™, but things are finally beginning to settle down. I've been having to do lots of real adult things — most recently, dealing with an asinine power bill — and it's exhausting, but in a weird way, it makes me feel competent? Idk, that's a thought for another time.
Since I moved, I've been looking for estate sales to check out. There haven't been very many, but I finally spotted one last weekend.
For those who have never been to one, an estate sale is essentially a yard sale but more comprehensive. A home is opened up to the public, and there is a price tag on pretty much anything you can think of. These usually are conducted by an estate sale company on behalf of a family after the homeowner dies or moves into a nursing home.
I drove to a neighborhood that I had never seen before and had to talk to a security guard to get through a gate and everything. That's not really on-brand for my area, so I thought that was interesting.
It's easy to tell which house is having the estate sale. Cars are parked on the curbs up and down the road, and the house has signs all around it. These sales are exciting for a lot of folks, because things are generally insanely cheap. As far as I can tell, the family is really just trying to empty out the house and secondarily make profit.
Every room is left as-is, and items are laid out on coffee tables, mantles, dressers, or folding tables. The garage is full of things like tools and holiday decorations and batteries.
I love going to estate sales, antiquing, and shopping at thrift stores, mostly because I like lookin' at stuff. But estate sales have a different vibe than going to the local Goodwill.
It almost feels like you're spying on someone. By sifting through their stuff, you can see their family members, hobbies, vacations, medical problems, and create this idea of a person you'll never meet. You walk through their closets and bathrooms and evaluate what has some semblance of value to you.
At every sale I've been to, the family wasn't present, which makes sense. I don't think I'd be able to watch someone buy some object that had been around in my family for my entire life for a quarter. No, don't buy the kettle! My mom got that before I was born! ...or something like that.
This most recent one I went to was interesting because of how many old things were there. There were cleaning supplies that had to have been manufactured in the early aughts at the latest. They collected novelty spoons. This person likely passed away and cherished items acquired in a past life.
At most sales I've attended, there are LOTS of sewing materials. It makes me wonder if they actually sewed as a hobby or picked it up because it was seen as an appropriate womanly skill. Did they buy the fully-stocked starter box and use it less than 5 times before pushing it under a bed?
I overheard the sale organizers chatting about what they'd sold over the last few days when they started lamenting at the fall of collecting fine glassware. There were cabinets full of crystal dishes, wine glasses, plates, bowls, butter dishes and other items I couldn't name if I tried. Some of it caught my eye, but it was more expensive than I cared to pay for, and the only value it had to me was that it was pretty.
"Nobody appreciates fine glassware anymore! I'd buy it all if I had room for it!" Well, that's the whole thing. I don't have room for fancy glassware that I bring out once a year in my mid-20s apartment. It felt frivolous, and yet another reason we young folks are inferior to the old folks.
Strangely enough, the thing that impacts me the most at each of these sales are the little things we'd never think of selling ourselves. The half-finished roll of plastic cling wrap. A Ziploc bag of mismatched earrings. Those 98¢ plastic cups that college kids buy for dorms from Target or Walmart, stained from decades of use. A small jar of buttons collected from various clothes over the years.
It makes me think of what I'd leave behind when I'm gone. Hopefully that's a ways off, but I think I'd prefer if my family didn't have to sell my worldly possessions. But I'd be dead. So...
And for the record, I did buy some things. I bought 8 picture frames and a fancy wall mirror for $22.
🥜📊
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Related reading: The Swedish Death Clean
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Shoot me a comment or start a conversation with me by emailing davstri4077@gmail.com.