The following post focuses on selling to dealers. I’ll preface it by saying that I’ve met some incredibly nice dealers over the years, so please don’t think I’ve got a thing against dealers in general. They are just like other people: some are wonderful people and some are money-grubbing, unscrupulous sociopaths. Both kinds are in the business of making money. The nice ones are more likely to treat you fairly, even if you’re not really sure about the value of what you’re selling. They may even tell you—as Rick Harrison did on Pawn Stars (at least when the cameras were rolling)—what its real value is. Don’t expect that from the sociopaths. If you rely, Blanche DuBois–like, on the kindness of strangers, you may well come away with a more dismal view of humanity. Caveat venditor!
Some time ago a gentleman who read one of my posts e-mailed to tell me to say he had a Union Pacific Railroad poster from 1869 and wondered how to determine its value. On another occasion, a woman contacted me about selling some correspondence between Lady Clementine Churchill (wife of Sir Winston) and Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery, whose World War II legacy includes the command of all Allied ground troops on a little mission known as D-Day.
Exciting stuff! I only wish I had the expertise and experience to tell these folks what their collectibles were worth, but at least I could offer them a course of action:
Do. Your. Homework.
If you’d rather be lazy and simply ask a dealer or even another collector what your item is worth—and if you really don’t know them well or have good reason to trust them—beware: you are ripe for fleecing.
I am distrustful of first offers from dealers unless I know how they price their inventory, as it gives me a general idea of their profit margin. If I sound cynical, it comes from experience. No matter how sincere a dealer seems—no matter how “high-class” their shop or website looks—if you have no clue to the value of your item, you run the risk of seriously underselling it.
A high-end autograph dealer I once knew would buy cheaply in a way that, I assume, allowed him to sleep at night: he would ask what you wanted for an item, then hoped you’d be dumb enough (as I was) to undervalue it. What bugged me then—and still does—is that I actually trusted him to truthfully say, “Look, it’s a nice piece, but I need to make a profit. Let me offer you X number of dollars for it, which is a fair price and as good as you’ll get from another dealer.” He didn’t do that. When I offered him an autograph letter written by a certain early photographer of the American West, he played dumb and asked me what price I had in mind. I suggested $200. He jumped at it, then listed it on his website for $1,200, describing letters by this photographer as “shockingly rare.”
Was this unethical? Arguably no. This guy would no doubt say, “Business is business, and I didn’t break any laws or lie to you. You should have researched it.” But I felt taken advantage of.
Make good scans of the item you want to sell and send them to several dealers and auction houses that specialize in that kind of collectible. If it is a unique item—as opposed to, say, a coin or limited-edition plate with a book value—you’ll be surprised at the range of offers you’ll receive.
How do you guard against this? As I told the fellow with the Union Pacific poster: Ask around. Make good scans of the item you want to sell and send them to several dealers and auction houses that specialize in that kind of collectible. If it is a unique item—as opposed to, say, a coin or limited-edition plate with a book value—you’ll be surprised at the range of offers you’ll receive.
Also, there’s a wealth of information online. Google your item and see what comes up. Sometimes you will find the same item or a similar one on a dealer website and can get some idea of an asking price. (But take it with a grain of salt: the item may be overpriced, which is why it hasn’t sold.)
On Antiques Roadshow, the appraisers often talk about “comparables,” the prices at which auction items have sold for. You can check individual auction websites for their hammer prices, or you can cast a wider net—which, of course, is why WorthPoint is such a valuable resource: it’s a tool the professionals use. However, you can also see past sale prices on LiveAuctioneers, Invaluable, and some auction houses, like Heritage Auctions. (For all of these you’ll need to start an account.)
Then there’s eBay. No matter what nasty things brick-and-mortar collectibles dealers say—that eBay and other online auction and dealer sites are killing their businesses—most of them buy and/or sell online. If you find a comparable eBay item, it may give you a sense of the price it can fetch, especially if there are bidders. If the item is up for auction, click on the little heart to “watch” and see what it sells for. If it is listed on “Buy It Now” and no one’s purchasing, it may well be because it’s overpriced. (Be sure to take condition into account.) If your item is nowhere to be found on eBay, you may have to watch over a period of months or even years before a similar one is listed. That may give you some idea of its scarcity . . . because, sooner or later, virtually everything comes up on eBay.
Finally, if you have a genuinely rare piece, contact libraries and museums that have similar holdings in their collections. Institutions are not in the business of pricing collectibles, but a curator or researcher may be nice enough to give you some information on it or a lead on who to contact. And while most public and university museums and libraries don’t have the budgets to buy items, especially in lean economic times, private institutions may. Or they may ask you to consider donating your item for a tax write-off. If you are able and willing to do so, I doff my hat to you: scholars can study it and the general public can enjoy it.