Small Fortunes

Markets are not neutral. They are made of people who carry their histories, aesthetic allegiances, and cultural memories into the auction room. A colonial-era needlepoint sampler made in Pennsylvania carries the particular domestic life of the mid-Atlantic and one that resonates most with buyers whose own sense of the past shares those environs.

This is the quality that the auction market has been pricing, with increasing conviction, for the last several years. It is what sophisticated collectors have understood for as long as they have been collecting. It is not sentiment or nostalgia. It is something closer to what historians mean when they talk about primary sources: the irreplaceable authority of the thing that was actually there.

Costume jewelry, non-precious, playful, and sometimes theatrical, seemed unlikely to achieve cultural significance and collectable value. Yet it has.

There are rooms that are simply rooms, well-appointed interiors that are tasteful and reflect the owner’s persona. Then there are rooms that become environments mixing collections, design and emerging artistry with a vision that makes them timeless.

There is a particular kind of influence that does not announce itself. Elsie de Wolfe understood this before anyone had a word for it.

The story of the DESTE Foundation does not begin with a collection. It begins with an idea that engagement with art could exist before ownership, and that context could be built before objects were acquired.

He wasn’t looking for art. He was looking for historical images, visual documentation and anything that could support his research. The negatives were unattributed, unorganized and considered low-value surplus from a storage locker. There was no indication of significance, nor did he know who they originally belonged to.

Collector & Dealer of Vintage Fashion, Accessories and Jewelry, Haute Couture, Red Carpet and Museum Quality Clothing

He was a postal clerk and she was a librarian living in a small, rent-controlled one-bedroom apartment in Manhattan. Their income was modest. There was no excess capital, no inheritance, no proximity to elite collecting circles and yet they built one of the most important contemporary art collections in the United States.

Marshall Fogel’s story doesn’t begin with wealth, nor with the intention of building one of the most significant sports memorabilia collections in the United States. It begins, like many important collections, with love, proximity, and instinct.