Sunday, July 25, 2010

By Leslie Linsley Special to The Citizen

Every Saturday I begin my day at an auction. I go because it is entertaining. It begins at 9:30 a.m. to a packed house and runs, without intermission, until the very last of the 400-plus items has been sold, which is usually around 4 p.m. At this time, all successful bidders must pay and take away their purchases. The most fun is seeing what items are offered and noting their final price.

If one is looking for a particular item, this is a great way to find it. Since most of the houses on my island of Nantucket, Mass., date back to the 1800s, it is easy to pick up an authentic antique bureau, a dining table and chairs, and many, many odds and ends and accessories, including some items not easily identified.

The prices are not cheap. In fact, there have been times when I have questioned the judgment of the bidders. I am convinced that most people get into the fever of the moment, and later, when carting the two-headed gargoyle home, wonder about their own sanity.

I always attend the preview the day before, but this has not always kept me from bidding on something I hadn't noticed only to find a nick or a repair that makes the item less desirable -- after I get it home.

I don't stay for the entire day, but rather write down the items I am interested in, calculate the time it takes to auction off each item, count the items on the program between the ones I want and then plan my day accordingly. This means I often drop into my shop for a half-hour, then walk the two blocks to the auction house, sit for a while, bid, then leave, and on and on all day.

This week, there wasn't anything of particular interest so I was only half-heartedly there. But there I was, and since no one wanted to bid on the vintage, miniature musical merry-go-round, I am the proud owner for just $20.

It plugs in, it lights up, it has mirrors on the inside post, and little people in little bucket seats twirl around to old-fashioned, rinky-tinky music. There is a button for everyday music, another for holiday songs and another for "new" songs. It's the kind of thing nobody needs but it puts a smile on your face when the music begins. And the seats go out and come in as it goes around, so it is fascinating.

Most Saturdays I sit through many hours watching all sorts of items come up for sale that I would have bid on had I not been so hesitant. Deliberation has no place at an auction.

Buying at auction takes practice and knowing a few things beforehand. It really does pay to go to the preview, decide what you want to bid on and set a price above which you absolutely will not go. Know that if you pay more than you decided it was worth, you'll kick yourself, and if you get it for less you'll be forever addicted to auction buying. I always stick to this rule, as my usual lack of discretionary income is a great deterrent to doing something stupid.

I'm fascinated with the things that come out of Nantucket homes and what people are willing to pay for them. My house is furnished with auction purchases that contribute to an eclectic style that, when I'm in a generous mood, looks rather charming. It's an unplanned style that simply evolved.

Auctions on Nantucket are our answer to mall shopping and just as much fun. I sat through one auction and wondered what the woman who bought a life-sized Egyptian mummy case had in mind for its use. And this wasn't even the oddest of purchases.

At the end of the day hordes of people pick up their treasures. Some are scratching their heads and questioning their sanity as they wrestle an overstuffed chair into an undersized car.

"But the upholstery is in perfect condition!" a woman exclaims to her husband's query as to where it will fit in their house.

Others are staring wistfully at coat racks with a few missing pegs, a wobbly table, a bureau whose drawers are forever stuck shut, wondering whatever made them impulsively wave that paddle. A frantic wife calls her husband at home, "I don't care what you have to do, find a truck right away and pick me up."

The causes for many a divorce have been traced back to a specific auction. At one auction I attended, a woman bid on and got four dining room chairs. No sooner had the gavel gone down did she shriek, "Oh, no. What did I do? I've bought four chairs, I have no car and I came on the boat! Does anyone want to buy four chairs cheap?"

People do get carried away, and it's easy to see how this happens. We simply get caught up in the excitement and want to be a participant, not just a bystander.

At an auction all rational shopping rules go out the window and so we either live with our mistakes, praise ourselves for being savvy enough to recognize a real prize and being a swift bidder, or kick ourselves for not acting fast enough.

What really keeps those seats filled every weekend is the suspense factor. What will be offered? What will it go for? What will I bid? Will I get it? And finally, the thrill of taking it home, finding a place to display or use it, and the enjoyment of living with it. Shopping at the local mall can't possibly be as satisfying.

Leslie Linsley has written more than 50 books on crafts, decorating and home style. She resides on Nantucket with her husband, photographer Jon Aron, and has a store on the island that specializes in her one-of-a-kind creations. Her latest book is "Key West: A Tropical Lifestyle" (Monacelli Press), with photos by Terry Pommett.