Vintage Requires a Decision

What are our thoughts on this?

That's usually how it starts. A photograph, sent by text from a thrift store or an estate sale, with a question underneath. Does this resonate with you? Do you need a moment?

Sometimes I'll add, I really like this.

And sometimes, when I know something is special, I'll say more: I really think we need to get this now. It's a great price. It's one of a kind. You don't have the luxury of thinking about this for three days, because it may be gone.

Because here's the truth about vintage that nobody tells you when you start buying it: it requires a decision.

Why vintage is different

When you buy something new, it'll be there next week. There are hundreds of them in a warehouse. You can think about it, compare it, sleep on it, come back.

Vintage is one of one. That chair, in that finish, at that price, is in that store right now. Someone else might walk in after you. A dealer might come through on a Saturday morning and clear the place out. Estate sales end on Sunday. Marketplace listings disappear in an hour.

That doesn't mean every vintage purchase should be a panic. It means you need to be ready to decide when the right thing appears, which is a different skill from shopping.

The ones I didn't decide on

I know this from painful experience.

There's a black panther table with matching light stands that I've been obsessed with forever. Three times I had the chance to buy it at a ridiculous price. Around $900 for the full set. Then around $300 for one. Then around $200.

Three times, I didn't.

I haven't seen it again since. It haunts me.

So when I tell a client we need to decide now, it's not a sales technique. It's a scar.

How to decide quickly without deciding badly

Speed isn't the same as recklessness. If you know what you're looking for, you can make good fast decisions. A few things help.

Know your measurements before you go. The width of the wall, the depth of the alcove, the height under the window, the width of your front door. A great piece that doesn't fit is a bad decision no matter how fast you made it. Keep the numbers in your phone.

Know your thread. If you understand the color, material or attitude that ties your room together, you can tell in seconds whether a piece belongs.

Check the bones. Lift it. Turn it over. Open the drawers. Sit in it. Structural problems are the ones that matter. Surface wear usually isn't.

Ask about the feeling. Does it give you the feeling you're after? Not is it nice, but is it right? That answer usually arrives faster than any other.

And know your price. Not just what you'll pay, but what you'd regret not paying. Sometimes those are very different numbers.

The safety net

One thing that makes decisive buying easier: vintage can be resold.

When I'm sourcing for a client and they say yes, we buy it. If, once it's home, it turns out not to work, that's okay. We can resell it. Good vintage tends to hold its interest. Somebody else is hunting for exactly what didn't work for you.

That safety net changes the math. The risk of buying something that turns out wrong is usually smaller than the risk of losing the one thing that was right.

Collaboration, not pressure

I want to be careful here, because there's a version of this that turns into pressure, and that's not how we work.

I'm extremely collaborative. I don't want sourcing to feel like I'm dictating someone's home to them. I want them inside the conversation. That's why I send photos and ask questions instead of just showing up with a truck.

Do you need a moment? is a real question. Sometimes the answer is yes, and we take the moment. Sometimes it's no, get it. And sometimes it's I don't love it, and that's important information, too.

The push only comes when I'm sure. When it's a great price, when it's one of a kind, when it fits the thread and the measurements and the feeling. Then I'll say so plainly.

How it works with Joey Rose

This is the rhythm of personal vintage sourcing at Joey Rose. A client gives us an assignment. We develop a sourcing brief. Then I go out into Los Angeles and hunt, and when something looks right, the client gets a photo and a question. If they say yes, we buy it, and we coordinate getting it home when that's needed.

The decision is always theirs. My job is to make sure they see the right thing at the right moment and know enough to decide well.

Decide

Some of the best vintage gets decided in minutes. The one I still think about, I decided on too slowly. Three times.

When something stops you, trust that. Measure, check, ask yourself how it makes you feel. Then decide.

It may be gone tomorrow.