Get Me to God's Country (an Estate Sale)
On being a voyeur of someone else's life
This post is brought to you by EstateSales.net.
Even if we didn’t have an ongoing partnership, I would urge you to download the EstateSales.net app. I use mine every week. It’s how I find out about estate sales near me, no matter where I am (I always use the app on a trip, because I love going to sales out of town).
I wrote about it in my book, I talk about it when I’m doing public speaking engagements, and I field questions about it on social media frequently. If you want to find estate sales in your area, just download the app, search your zip code, and hit up all the sales you can.
I’m sure you’ve seen those memes that are like, “When I die, the girlies are gonna go nuts for my estate sale.” I feel similarly except it’s the inverse: When I die, I’m gonna wake up in a never-ending estate sale. My personal idea of heaven.
I’ve been to probably 500+ estate sales in my life, though I certainly haven’t counted. And every time, I look around in awe at all the stuff accumulated over the course of a life. Good stuff. Bad stuff. Weird stuff.
Estate sales are our chance to be voyeurs — to literally go inside someone else’s home and see, touch, and smell the items they lived with every day.
Sometimes, that comes with a tinge of sadness. I went to a sale at the home of a former lawyer who had passed away and all of his awards and accolades (even his law school diploma) were up for grabs. His appointment book — with little notes jotted down by his secretary in the 1950s — was priced at $5.
Sometimes, you’ll go in the kitchen at an estate sale and find a half-used box of aluminum foil for $1. Would it be strange or would it be beautiful, you might think, if I were to use the second half to line a baking sheet beneath some cookies, or to cover a roast chicken?
I’ve never purchased the half-used aluminum foil, nor the previously-used perfumes or body lotions or even bottles of alcohol that many sales will have on offer.
But I have purchased other strange things.
My death mask certainly comes to mind (ironically, or maybe fatefully, the first purchase I made after my grandmother passed away — from an estate sale that was just down the street from her own home).
The thing I love most about estate sales is that, when you find a really good one, it feels like you met a soul mate.
There was the sale in a gated community that I went to after one of my mom’s doctor’s appointments. The couple who owned the home had been artistic and exciting — they had original Frank Stella artworks hanging on the walls and an incredible selection of vintage furniture. I got a wonderful vintage handbag and several pieces of costume jewelry.
Or the sale in a mid-century home on the river. I was first in line and scored over a dozen items — including the above funny wicker frog planter, which was later sold to Jimmy Fallon and his wife. Isn’t it funny to think that a whimsical item like this could live so many lives?
From the archives:
Some other favorite estate-sale finds:
The Victor Skrebeskni photograph at the top of this page, which was made for the Chicago Film Festival. I found this on the final day of the sale, hung on the wall in an area of the house no one wanted to go near. People are scared of partially shirtless men! I was not. I proudly took him off the wall and home with me.
The above RA Miller folk art painting, from an Atlanta home full of folk art goodness.
A very Great Gatsby-esque pair of glasses to hang on the wall, from a Ponte Vedra Beach estate sale.
Estate sales are, in many ways, the giant merchandise tables of our lives. It’s the stuff we’ve accumulated from birthdays and holidays and flings and romances, but also the stuff we’ve made or purchased with our own hard-earned money. They tell a story about where we started, where we went, where we ended up.
There’s so much beauty in that.
Odds & Ends
Fine hair-havers, rejoice: This glossing detangler works wonders.
What I’m lathering up with: This incredible scrub. It smells of burnt sugar and vanilla, the packaging is fun, and it makes your skin feel and look gorgeous.
A brand I’ve been gatekeeping: The lip serum is tinted and makes your lips look twice their size and the wrinkle pen fills in lines on your face (I apply it to my crow’s feet and in between my eyebrows when I’m between Dysport appointments).
Recent press: I spoke to Architectural Digest about tariffs and what they mean for secondhand shopping.
While I haven't bought used foil, I always go to the backyard and garage in search of terracotta or stone planters. I love when there's still something growing in the pot. I don't have a green thumb but I've kept se beautiful ivy alive in its Italian terracotta pot and think about the person who planted it and watered it before me.
My heart skips a beat when I see a handwritten estate sale sign. I feel like I get better deals when things are family run.