More Top Picks What Learning Differences Run Together Comorbidities Explained
player ready...Janet Johnson owned dozens of pieces of good jewelry, many of them an inheritance from her late father.
A manager of a North Side beauty salon, Johnson had few occasions to wear gold rings and cuff links or any other fine pieces. So, unclouded by sentiment, she packed up the gems and sold them to an estate jeweler, sinking the proceeds into a 401(k) program.
“Dad was a very practical man. . . . I think he would have approved. Besides, we just live differently today,” said Johnson, who is in her 40s. “The safety deposit box, the insurance premiums . . . it just weighed me down. When I got rid of it, I felt lighter.”
As Baby Boomers get older, familial obligations increase, living space gets smaller and the back-to-simplicity movement gathers momentum, more people are scrutinizing family heirlooms with a businesslike eye. The boom in the stock market–and the seduction of ready cash–has also fueled the phenomenon.
Sterling silver flatware, bone china and crystal stemware–once the very essence of the good life–are now regarded by some to be about as necessary to the nation’s fabric as typewriter repairmen.
In the past, a segment of society entertained lavishly and used those occasions to display every accouterment, right down to finger bowls. Today, many hosts are more apt to use plastic on the deck. And the guests? They’re so happy that someone else is cooking that they don’t care.
There are few statistics to document the trend, but interviews with a range of galleries, antique stores and consignment shops confirm that dealers are seeing younger customers with better goods who are more than willing to trade them for more practical assets.
While bridal registries certainly chug along, many of today’s newlyweds are more likely to register for stainless steel than silver. To adults who were weaned on the Styrofoam of drive-through windows, a silver punch bowl can become more of a burden than a blessing.
“Who polishes this stuff besides Martha Stewart?” asked Gerald Celente, director of the Trends Research Institute, a research firm in Rhinebeck, N.Y.
“This is old status for an aging society; the new status is about good physical and emotional health, as well as spiritual well-being,” Celente said. “What it says to the world is not `Look how much money I’ve made,’ but `Look how content and calm and accomplished I am.’ “
If that sounds a bit too Thoreau-esque for a generation virtually defined by conspicuous consumption, there’s another side to all this paring down: the need for money.
The robust stock market has provided a greater incentive to sell hard assets. It’s not as if everyone is queuing up at the pawnshop, but with kids going off to college and retirement just 15 years away, if you can ride the wave on Aunt Rose’s Chippendale armoire, why not?
“Boomers are confronting the prospect of retiring impoverished,” said J. Walker Smith of Yankelovich Partners, “and it scares them.”
Forty-six percent of all adults have nest eggs of less than $10,000, according to a survey by Fidelity Investments. To make matters worse, the survey found 60 percent of Americans in private-sector jobs have no pensions, as many companies in the early ’90s cut benefits to contain costs.
“Now–as they face the obligations that come with this stage of life–Boomers clearly feel under a lot of financial pressure and are scrambling to catch up,” Smith said. “They’re trying to make up for a lifetime of spending with a big score on Wall Street. And if you can do that with some heirloom, it’s smarter than just letting it sit around the house.”
After years of poor fiscal fitness, it would be a leap to think Boomers are now chastened and ready to adopt a more austere lifestyle. Any dividends from the stock market might just as easily go toward next year’s vacation as a retirement fund, analysts say.
“This has always been a spend-it rather than a save-it generation,” said Smith, who predicts the downside of this bullish market is still two years away. “If you want to talk to Boomers, you talk about the revenue side.”
And selling off valuables is just one way of increasing that revenue. The traditional clientele of auction houses and other dealers has primarily been older people, who are simplifying as they move into retirement communities. “Divesting oneself of worldly goods is often a sign of preparing for death,” said Bruce Rybarczyk, a clinical psychologist at Rush Medical Center.
But about a year ago, Tobina Kahn, an estate jeweler, started noticing an increase in younger customers.
“No one is coming in to buy a third car,” said Kahn, whose family has operated House of Kahn at 919 N. Michigan Ave. for more than 50 years, as well as a Palm Beach, Fla., location. “It’s not frivolous. But they are looking at what’s in the safety deposit box–at what they never use, never wear and have to pay high insurance premiums on and decide it’s time to sell. . . . Even if it only brings $100, they’d rather buy five shares of AT&T.”
Arthur Feldman, owner of Arthur Feldman Gallery, 1815 St. Johns Ave., Highland Park, is also seeing more middle-age clients. Their parents are dying and now they might be absorbing one or two households’ full of goods on top of their own. They’re not heartless; they simply have run out of room, he said. The money is merely a fringe benefit of clearing out clutter.
“Sometimes there’s a feeling of `I don’t appreciate this stuff; my kids don’t want this stuff. . . . I’d rather put it in the hands of someone who does,’ ” said Feldman, who deals in Judaica, antiques and jewelry from the 1920s to 1940s.
And when the urge to purge takes over, nothing is sacred.
Charlotte Walters, owner of Lost Eras, an antiques store at 1511 W. Howard St., on Chicago’s North Side, made a house call to a woman who had the best of everything: cloisonne lamps, Oriental rugs and a photo album, in which the names and dates had been meticulously documented.
“I said, `You’re going to keep the photo album, right?’ And she said, `Is it worth five dollars? Give me five bucks and it’s yours.’ “
Low-maintenance is the mantra, Walters said.
“Some people view antiques as things that need to be taken care of. People are so bogged down with everything in life. . . . God forbid they take time to polish a piece of furniture.”
More Top Picks Best Automatic Pet Feeders For Cats
Joanie Epstein, of the Chicago Riverfront Antique Mart, 2929 N. Western Ave., said, “A lot of people say it’s space, but I think they’re used to a world where things are disposable. . . . Maybe because it’s just easier to buy things today. In the old days, to buy a dress, you’d save up for months and wear it for years.”
Mike Modica, owner of Direct Auction Galleries, 7232 N. Western Ave., agrees. “The younger generation just hasn’t grown up with these things. They’re more into electronics.”
Many dealers have stories of customers who thought they were selling diamonds, only to find out it’s a zircon, but sometimes it works the other way.
Kahn, who learned the business from her parents, had a client who brought in what she thought was her grandmother’s synthetic sapphire, hoping to get about $100 and found out it was genuine and worth about $20,000.
“I’m always happy to give people good news,” said Kahn, who sells most of her gems in Europe, where formality is more part of the culture.
But, regardless of the price tag, isn’t there something just a bit cold about selling off a family’s history?
A Glenview woman is among those who don’t see it that way. After her mother died several years ago, she couldn’t bring herself to sell her substantial collection of Lladro figurines, art and silver. Still grieving, she found it less painful to put her mother’s possessions into a storage locker and forget about them.
Now, after choosing a few pieces to keep, she is ready.
“In addition to the sentiment, you really have to love the piece, otherwise it’s just a tchotchke,” she said. “I can get rid of it now because the emotions are not as raw.”
Still, parting can be poignant.
“I’ve had people get really teared up,” Walters said. “I tell them, `At least it’s going to somebody who is going to appreciate it. You’re not the first person to own it and you’re not going to be the last.’ “
Michelle Jones found that philosophy comforting. After much soul-searching, the South Side woman decided to part with her grandmother’s diamond brooch to help pay her daughter’s college tuition.
“My grandmother was a no-nonsense woman who worked hard cleaning other people’s homes,” Jones said. “As an African-American woman, I think she would be very proud knowing it was being put to such good use.”