by Judith Katz-Schwartz My parents’ generation had an expression they used to describe a certain type of education. It was called “the school of hard knocks.” The short version of what it means is “learning by experience.” Every dealer in antiques and collectibles knows about this type of education. There are no schools that teach one how to be an antiques dealer, probably because it involves an individual set of skills. And that’s one of the aspects of the business that attracts people: the chance to do things one’s own way. But, where do we get the tips and techniques, the life lessons that help us succeed in this unique occupation? We get them from each other. While it’s true that we all have to make our own mistakes, and they can be costly – tuition is steep at The School of Hard Knocks – what we learn from other dealers is priceless, but free. When my husband, Artie, and I started Twin Brooks Antiques 20 years ago, the sum total of what we knew was what I’d read in a soft cover book about starting your own antiques business. We had a pretty good idea that you have to sell items for more than you paid for them in order to make money, but that was about it. We’d purchased the contents of a tiny antiques store, loaded it into a rented van, and trucked it back to New York City. There, I cleaned, priced and tagged everything, sitting in our tiny apartment, which was crammed to the ceiling with the contents of the shop. We had some friends who were experienced dealers, and we knew they did shows. So, we booked ourselves into some shows, the first one of which was the Atlantique City show, held in the old Miss America Auditorium. Looking back on it, I truly understand the old saying that, “ignorance is bliss.” We had booked ourselves into one of the largest and most important shows in the country, and we hadn’t a clue about how to do a show. We set up the folding tables we had dragged along with us, put everything out onto them, and waited for the show to open. Fortunately for us, about 15 minutes before that happened, our good friend Steve Sussman of Friendship Studio strolled by, came to a halt in front of our booth and said, “Whaddaya crazy? You can’t set up a booth like that. You have to merchandise it.” Steve crawled under our table, pulled out the milk crates we used to transport everything, and began stacking them up on the table. He then filled the resulting “shelves” with our merchandise. And, when the show opened, we did pretty well. That’s merchandising for you. It was a long day, and we couldn’t wait to grab some dinner and crash in our hotel, which we had affectionately (not) nicknamed The Barbizon Fungus. We wound up having dinner in a small restaurant with a bunch of other dealers. Along with the food, we got more education. The other dealers advised us on everything, from which were the best shows to do, to where to get the disposable diapers everyone uses to pack fragile items, to how to deal with customers who tried to switch tags on the “merch”. That weekend in Atlantic City was the beginning of our business but, more importantly, it was the beginning of our education. Through the years, and after hundreds of antiques shows, I can honestly say that we’ve never done a single show where we didn’t learn something new from other dealers. We’ve learned that it’s easier to sell paper items than almost anything else because, at the end of the show, packing up is so fast. You just cover the boxes and go. If you sell glassware, you’ll be packing for hours. We’ve learned that outdoor shows are dusty and dirty and, if you’re going to do them, you’ll need a full bottle of glass cleaner, and a full roll of paper towels for each show. We’ve also learned how to set up the booth at an outdoor show in a way that makes it harder for anyone to steal from you. I’m sorry to say it, but that’s an important thing to know. We’ve learned the mailing address, phone number and website of every dealer supply company in the business, and who has the best quality at the lowest prices. We’ve learned to display a sign at our booth that tells customers we also buy. We’ve learned to introduce ourselves to our neighbors as soon as we arrive at a show, so that we can mind each other’s booths, offer to bring back food, pass the slow hours telling each other jokes or asking questions. We did a lot of that for the first five years or so. I can’t really list all the things other dealers have taught me. There’s just so much they’ve shared with us through the years, from the best hotels and restaurants to who the known shoplifters are. They’ve advised us on everything, from the best packing materials to where to get the truck repaired locally, from how to price items, to what kinds of tags to use, to what’s selling at the moment. Along the way, I hope I’ve passed on some of what we’ve learned to greener, less experienced dealers. Twenty years later, Artie and I are proud graduates of The School of Hard Knocks. We know we owe a major part of our education to the kindness and generosity of other dealers. To subscribe to Judith’s free, funny e-mail newsletter for collectors, visit her website at www.msjudith.net. |