Bidding My Time
Oct. 8th, 2013 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhythmaningLast weekend, I did something I had never done before. I bought something in an auction.
Actually, this isn't strictly true. I have bought property in Scotland, which required sealed bids in an auction. (Maybe I should write about the Scottish system of property sales someone.) But I have never personally taken part in an auction: seen something I wanted, got into a bidding war and purchased. For instance, I have never bought anything on eBay. (Populated by a bunch of scammy bastards, if you ask me.)
But two weekends ago, I visited Lyon and Turnbull as part of the Edinburgh "doors open" day. I wanted to see the building, a former church in the eastern fringes of the New Town. (For those of you not familiar with Edinburgh, the New Town is the old bit. Not the oldest bit - that's the Old Town, of course.) As well as showing off the architecture, the auction house was showing off the wares in their next sale, and I noticed some chairs. Actually, I noticed lots of chairs.
I needed some chairs. Someone has sat on a dining chair recently, which had collapsed spectacularly - and hilariously (and, as it turned out, dangerously) - under them; and with two other dining chairs with noticeably loose joints (and hence at risk of similarly collapsing), I reckoned I could do with some new chairs.
I researched dp the sale online, looked at the expected prices, decided what I might want to spend. I also realised they had wardrobes and chests of drawers, which would also go nicely in my flat.
I went back to the auction room at the next viewing, and looked at the wardrobes, the chests, and the chairs.
And, on Saturday, I went back to the sale. I missed the first two lots I was interested in (a set of six chairs and a chest). I didn't even bid on the next two, which started at my maximum and rose above it.
I did watch what was going on. I had been to an auction before, when I was a student, but I had no intention of taking part, and frankly I had no idea what was going on.
I probably still had no idea what was going on, but I did find it interesting. Many lots didn't receive any bids; many received only one. Only once it twice did a bidding war develop, pushing the price higher and higher. One guy in the auction room - not one of the house staff (several of whom were seated on phones and computers, bidding on behalf of phone and internet clients) - was acting for several clients: he had several different bidding paddles, each with a different number. He was one of several clearly "professional" bidders, who clearly knew what they were doing.
Some things went for much less than I would have expected. Clearly I have valued my grandfather click at more than its sake value. Others went for much more. All the chest of drawers and wardrobes went for two or three times what I would have paid for them. Including one which clearly had woodworm.
When the next set of chairs came up, I bid. For s shirt while I thought I was going to get a bargain: no one else bid, and I thought they would be mine without anyone else getting involved. But one of the professionals nodded, and entered the fray. We bid each other up in £10 increments, and he dropped out ten pounds below my acceptable price. Which means I got them below the expected value, and - even after the auctioneer's 25% premium - cheaper than the chairs I had looked at from Ikea.
Still, when I got them home yesterday, I realised two of them have loose joints similar to the chairs they are meant to be replacing, and also need a bit of upholstery work. Caveat emptor!
All in all, rather fun. And suddenly I'm the kind of guy who buys things at auction!
Actually, this isn't strictly true. I have bought property in Scotland, which required sealed bids in an auction. (Maybe I should write about the Scottish system of property sales someone.) But I have never personally taken part in an auction: seen something I wanted, got into a bidding war and purchased. For instance, I have never bought anything on eBay. (Populated by a bunch of scammy bastards, if you ask me.)
But two weekends ago, I visited Lyon and Turnbull as part of the Edinburgh "doors open" day. I wanted to see the building, a former church in the eastern fringes of the New Town. (For those of you not familiar with Edinburgh, the New Town is the old bit. Not the oldest bit - that's the Old Town, of course.) As well as showing off the architecture, the auction house was showing off the wares in their next sale, and I noticed some chairs. Actually, I noticed lots of chairs.
I needed some chairs. Someone has sat on a dining chair recently, which had collapsed spectacularly - and hilariously (and, as it turned out, dangerously) - under them; and with two other dining chairs with noticeably loose joints (and hence at risk of similarly collapsing), I reckoned I could do with some new chairs.
I researched dp the sale online, looked at the expected prices, decided what I might want to spend. I also realised they had wardrobes and chests of drawers, which would also go nicely in my flat.
I went back to the auction room at the next viewing, and looked at the wardrobes, the chests, and the chairs.
And, on Saturday, I went back to the sale. I missed the first two lots I was interested in (a set of six chairs and a chest). I didn't even bid on the next two, which started at my maximum and rose above it.
I did watch what was going on. I had been to an auction before, when I was a student, but I had no intention of taking part, and frankly I had no idea what was going on.
I probably still had no idea what was going on, but I did find it interesting. Many lots didn't receive any bids; many received only one. Only once it twice did a bidding war develop, pushing the price higher and higher. One guy in the auction room - not one of the house staff (several of whom were seated on phones and computers, bidding on behalf of phone and internet clients) - was acting for several clients: he had several different bidding paddles, each with a different number. He was one of several clearly "professional" bidders, who clearly knew what they were doing.
Some things went for much less than I would have expected. Clearly I have valued my grandfather click at more than its sake value. Others went for much more. All the chest of drawers and wardrobes went for two or three times what I would have paid for them. Including one which clearly had woodworm.
When the next set of chairs came up, I bid. For s shirt while I thought I was going to get a bargain: no one else bid, and I thought they would be mine without anyone else getting involved. But one of the professionals nodded, and entered the fray. We bid each other up in £10 increments, and he dropped out ten pounds below my acceptable price. Which means I got them below the expected value, and - even after the auctioneer's 25% premium - cheaper than the chairs I had looked at from Ikea.
Still, when I got them home yesterday, I realised two of them have loose joints similar to the chairs they are meant to be replacing, and also need a bit of upholstery work. Caveat emptor!
All in all, rather fun. And suddenly I'm the kind of guy who buys things at auction!
