The Sotheby’s woes continue. Last Thursday, The Financial Times reported that Sotheby’s annual pre-tax loss “more than doubled to $248 million in 2024,” while their pre-tax profit fell 21% to $27 million. The art market is in a slump right now — why launder your ill-gotten gains through paintings when there’s crypto? — but that doesn’t mean you can’t still hustle. The FT notes that, in comparison, Christie’s pre-tax profits rose 18% to £85 million in the same time period. They also continue to score some big commissions, including Elaine Wynn’s blockbuster personal art collection and the Mellon Blue, Bunny Mellon’s giant 9.5 carat blue diamond. (I will definitely cover that diamond in the next couple of months — you know I love a blue — but holy CRAP I hate the setting.)

All is not lost yet, though, because Sotheby’s just announced on Monday that they’ve landed the blockbuster Leonard A. Lauder Collection of 20th century art, and their evening sale in November will also mark the debut of their new global headquarters in Manhattan’s Breuer Building. You may be familiar with the Breuer as the Brutalist cantilevered box on the corner of Madison Avenue and East 75th; it was the Whitney Museum for 50 years before they moved to a new building in the Meatpacking District in 2015.

After that, the Met leased the Breuer to house their contemporary art collection — but after around five years of mixed success, they were happy to sublet it to the Frick, who used it as a temporary residence while the Frick Mansion was being renovated.

Sotheby’s purchased the building in 2023 and were planning to launch sometime this year, and since Leonard Lauder was a chairman, trustee and enormous benefactor of the Whitney, it’s a nice confluence to have his collection displayed for sale in a building that previously had an entire floor named after him. I don’t know anything about anything, but that connection surely must have been a factor in the Lauder’s decision to choose Sotheby’s over Christie’s.

ANYWAY, enough Musical Chairs: Museum Edition. Let’s move on to the good stuff! I was super excited to see this suite in today’s High Jewelry live auction at Sotheby’s Hong Kong:

The suite consists of a ring, earrings and a necklace, all featuring multiple tiny hydrangea blossoms clustered within frames of platinum and yellow gold. But here’s the thing: those shades of pink and purple aren’t enamel — they’re actually 18k purple gold. Yes! Purple gold is a thing! You know how rose gold gets its pinkish color because it’s alloyed with copper, and white gold contains metals like nickel, silver or platinum? Purple gold is gold mixed with aluminum.

It’s very rare because the resulting product is an intermetallic compound that is extremely brittle and easily shattered, unlike the more common gold alloys mentioned above. Those are more malleable and able to be manipulated, but if you try to carve or hammer purple gold, it’ll break. As a result, it can only be cast — the molten gold is poured into a carved mold and removed when it has hardened.

Purple gold can also become discolored when worn next to the skin and exposed to sweat. The Japanese have been pioneers in its development over the years, particularly a company called Cierin, and it sounds like they’ve figured out how to get around the discoloration issue. From their website:

It has been known for four decades that the addition of aluminium to gold could result in purple gold. The initial product, however, had problems with discolouration when expose to sweat. Since then we have collaborated with three universities in the research and development of purple gold.
Throughout the researches we have developed a coating technology that is 7 to 10 times harder and more durable than ones before. Now the purple gold is coated with a very thin clear film, called nano-coating, which prevents discolouration. Because this clear film does not crack or peel, we could finally launch Cierin jewelry collection in the market.

The fragility of purple gold means that it’s usually used in small pieces that can be placed within a setting and treated almost like a gemstone. You can see in the suite above that the blossoms are all individually formed and assembled — it’s definitely worth clicking through to see the back of the pieces — on a framework that stabilizes and lifts them out to create a three-dimensional effect. It’s gorgeous. Estimate 80,000 - 160,000 HKD or $10,300 - $20,600 US.

As a Gen Xer, I’m required to point out the “Falkor” necklace in that same auction. Yes, that Falkor. It’s by Cartier and features a thick torsade of tanzanite beads, with one end capped by a depiction of our favorite luck dragon, pavé-set with brilliant-cut diamonds and circular-cut emerald eyes. The other end features a scrollwork cage of diamonds set in platinum. It’s estimated at 480,000 - 750,000 HKD ($61,000 - $96,400).

Circa 1911, this adorable silver cat minaudiére is attributed to the firm of Louis Kuppenheim, a jewelry manufacturer founded in 1854 in Pforzheim, Germany. Louis passed away in 1889 and three of his sons continued the business, which eventually grew to employ over 200 people until WWII broke out and the company was liquidated in 1939. I don’t know what happened to them after that, but 1939 is never a good year to see mentioned in relation to Germany.

The Kuppenheim company was particularly known for these small, multi-use cases and compacts. It seems like cats were their most common subjects, but I’ve found a monkey and a dog as well. This one contains a mirror, two compartments for makeup (there’s actually some lipstick residue still in there), and a money clip. It also would have originally contained a notebook and pencil. Here’s the back:

The stones used are paste and the piece has import marks for London. It’s estimated at £800 - £1,200 ($1,100 - $1,600) and it’s included in the Jewels Online auction at Bonhams London ending September 23.

From 1987 to 1990, I had a picture of Tony Hawk in my locker. I was an unabashed skate betty in high school and college, and I’m still friends with most of the skaters I knew back then — all of whom continue to be hot, kind and funny and always ready to drop everything to beat the shit out of some Nazis. Skinheads were rampant in Pennsyltucky back then, and they loved to come down to Philly wearing their stupid suspenders and Fred Perrys to start fights get their asses kicked. It was basically a nightly occurrence, and it sure would be nice to say that Nazi beatdowns are no longer necessary, but OH WELL.

There is a point to this tangent, I swear. On September 23rd, Julien’s Auctions in Los Angeles is presenting Tony Hawk: The 900 Collection. If you’re not familiar with him, Hawk is a legendary skateboarder who went pro at the age of 14 and spent his career pushing the boundaries of the sport (as well as the boundaries of his poor, busted body). One of his crowning achievements took place in 1999 at the San Francisco X Games, where he landed the first documented “900,” a trick that saw him complete two and a half mid-air spins while holding on to his skateboard. Nobody had ever done that before, and you can see footage of it here:

All of his gear from that day is up for sale in the auction, and a portion of the proceeds will go to The Skatepark Project, a nonprofit Hawk founded in 2002 that has since built and funded nearly 700 public skateparks in underserved communities across the US.

The estimate for his historic “Falcon 2” board from that day (pictured above) is $500,000 - $700,000, and as of this writing it’s already up to $300,000. His helmet, kneepads and sneakers from that day are also included in the auction, as well as loads of other decks, clothes, vintage X Games passes and other memorabilia.

Anyway, Tony Hawk is the GOAT and if I had a locker now I’d still have a picture of him in there. DO A KICKFLIP!

Note: Julien’s is also hosting a Joan Rivers auction on October 3. I don’t want to use the term “dregs,” but oh wait I just did. There’s stuff from QVC, random awards — the 2006 Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons Award? — shoes, clothes, make-up bags with old make-up in them, and even the ashes of two of her dogs, which I find unbearably sad. What DID draw my interest were sets of notes she had written up for some of her Late Show interviewees, including Joan Collins, Charlton Heston and George Hamilton. Also, if you want to bid on what is possibly the worst pop culture item of all time, you can try for her commemorative china mug celebrating the marriage of Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson. Estimate $25 - $50, lol.

I hesitated to highlight these boxes because I’m sorely tempted to bid on them myself, but I have to be good because my Social Security is probably going to wind up being diverted towards some billionaire’s fleet of superyachts. So here you go: These are two jewelry boxes by Ercolano, a Sorrento-based Italian company that has specialized in the art of marquetry since the 1940s. Marquetry is a craft that goes back centuries and involves the cutting of shapes to fit together into a pattern or design. It’s usually done with wood veneers, but sometimes other materials like mother of pearl, tortoiseshell, ivory and even metals are used. And if you’ve been to Italy and wandered around any palazzi, you’ve probably seen tabletops and ornaments made of pietra dura, which is also a form of marquetry that uses colored hardstones like marble, jasper, lapis lazuli, agate and others to form a design.

Ercolano are known for their handmade wooden jewelry and music boxes, and any time I see them out in the wild they cost a fricking fortune. So if these two stay around the estimate of $200–400, they’ll be a steal. (Although as I write this it’s seven days before the auction and there are 40 people watching the lot on Live Auctioneers, so there’s probably going to be a battle.)

The boxes are included in the Toomey & Co. Great Estates auction on September 25 in Chicago, and I recommend clicking through to browse, because there are some fantastic pieces in this sale. I’d never put the words “peacock” and “weathervane” together in my head before, but now that I’ve seen one I’m pretty sure it could fix my life.

This is just bizarre and wonderful. It’s a 19th century painted terracotta oil lamp from Naples, in the form of a sandal-clad foot, and it turns out it’s actually a copy of an ancient lamp.

According to the Archaeological Museum of Bologna, terracotta oil lamps “were the most common type of lighting in the Roman world from the 1st century BC,” and they were decorated with a huge variety of designs, including animals, everyday scenes, religious/mythological stuff, etc. The next step (lol sorry) above terracotta were bronze oil lamps, which were also richly decorated but could only be afforded by the wealthy.

Again, according to the museum:

One of the most popular and varied versions of the bronze lamp is that modelled as a clad foot, which was widespread in the first two centuries of the Empire. It is likely that they were connected to the oriental cult of Serapis and it is no coincidence that this type of lamp was popular with legionaries stationed at the outskirts of the Empire, who were some of the first to acquire and then circulate oriental divinities to the Roman world.

(Serapis, by the way, was a sort of bridge deity that was used by the Greek Pharaoh Ptolemy I Soter (c. 369/68 BC – January 282 BC) to try to intertwine the religions of his Greek and Egyptian subjects. Serapis was usually depicted as a Greek god with some Egyptian attributes, and as his cult expanded into the Roman Empire, his image was often used interchangeably with the Egyptian god Osiris.)

But back to the lamp! What really interests me is that a lamp similar to this one is currently in the collection of the London Museum. The London lamp was unearthed back in 1995 during excavations at the London Bridge Underground Station in Southwark, and the museum description further explains that:

It was found in rubbish dumped between buildings destroyed by fire during the Boudican revolt in AD60.

This novelty lamp, a rare find from Roman Britain, shows a style of shoe fashionable in the more northern provinces of the Roman Empire. It was probably made in the Netherlands and shows the variety of imported goods coming into Roman London very soon after the start of the town in about AD50.

This New Scientist article from 1995 talks about the discovery of the site, and excavations continue to this day in the area — check out this amazing Roman mausoleum they’ve unearthed right next to Borough Market. London’s awesome.

Oh and the 19th century replica lamp is estimated at 400 - 600 EUR ($473 - $709 USD) and is included in the online An Italian Collecting Journey: 16th–20th Century Paintings and Decorative Arts auction at Sotheby’s Milan closing on September 26th.

This interesting little reverse-painted silhouette pendant is included in the Wooley & Wallis Furniture, Works of Art & Clocks & The Age of Oak auction on October 1st, and they think it may date to the late 18th century. A few clues point to it being a Jacobite piece, as the silhouette likely depicts Bonnie Prince Charlie, the exiled Stuart leader and claimant to the thrones of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Charlie is identified by the thistle at the bottom of the pendant, as well as the engraved word “Redeat” on the glass, which translates to “May he return,” a known Jacobite motto. It’s estimated at £300 - £400, or $409 -$545 USD.

Ok that’s it, my friends. I hope you’ve enjoyed this little window into some spectacularly random stuff. As difficult as it is to make time for this newsletter, I can never give it up because where else could I write about purple gold, Tony Hawk, and a lamp in the shape of a foot? And you people indulge me! Weirdos.

Lol. Love you all; try to stay sane.

M xxx

Before we get into that, though, I want to make sure you saw this blockbuster New Yorker investigation into the current sorry state of Sotheby’s. I knew things were bad, but not “In the first six months of 2024, profits from Sotheby’s auction businesses fell by eighty-eight per cent” bad. (FYI, that’s an archive version of the original paywalled New Yorker link, so you’ll probably have to do a captcha to read it. I sure wish they would let us gift articles.)

Anyway, I guess the tl;dr on that story is that the owner of Sotheby’s sounds like every other rot-brained billionaire who thinks education and expertise can be tossed to the side without repercussion. It’s a huge drag, but I do hope the company will weather this storm.

In other news, Sotheby’s also recently returned — totally voluntarily and not at all under extreme diplomatic pressure! lol — the Piprahwa Gems, a group of 300 gemstones that were originally part of a larger cache of nearly 1,800 gem relics found by William Claxton Peppé, an English estate manager who was excavating in Northern India in 1898. The gems — sapphires, rubies, pearls, topaz, sheets of gold, etc. — were buried alongside an urn with an inscription stating it contained bone fragments of the Buddha himself.

The Indian government at the time gave the gem and bone relics to Rama V, the Buddhist King of Siam, who divided them up and enshrined them in various Buddhist sites in Asia. The urns and whatnot were given to the Indian Museum in Kolkata.

Peppé was allowed to keep some of the “duplicate” stones in the cache and those 300 gems remained in his family until now. Sotheby’s was planning to sell them in Hong Kong in May, but Buddhist leaders and the Indian government collectively lost their minds and threatened legal action, so Sotheby’s pulled the gems from the sale. After two months of negotiations, they were purchased by the Mumbai-based conglomerate Godrej Industries Group and will be placed on permanent public display in India.

Some other random links:

I fell head over heels in love with this 1956 Ferrari at Bonhams but unfortunately I am not a “gentleman racer” and didn’t win the Powerball in time to beat its final sale price of $1,512,000.

Bonhams also has its Downton Abbey online props and costumes auction up, so if you need a dinner gong, 10 lampshades or Shirley MacLaine’s hat, you’re in luck. (For real, though: there are a TON of dresses up for sale, and it’s a great way to see the styles and identities shaped for the characters by the costume department.)

Also, please wrap up literally everything in the September 10th Rago/Toomey & Co. Jewelry: Antique to Art Deco auction and have it shipped to me immediately. There are so many beautiful pieces in this auction, but I think my favorite is the Victorian watch chain above, with links designed to resemble carved tree branches and tiny silver gilt horsemen and dogs in pursuit of a stag that’s about to jump over a fence. Yes, I know a hunt is a shitty subject, but I can’t not appreciate the jeweler’s ability to pull this off, both technically and artistically. The illusion of speed is phenomenal. Look at the dogs!

And I also would like to thank the Rago/Toomey/Wright/etc. network of auction houses for always presenting their sales and objects so beautifully. I see the time you put in and it makes a difference! (Some of you may have noticed that I rarely include items from Heritage, because even though they often have wonderful pieces, their website gives me hives.)

Ok, that’s enough of that. Let’s all go back to November 22, 2022 and learn about a cookbook I found at an antiques show. (Note: This is a longass email, so it might get cut off and direct you to the website. Apologies in advance.)

Hi all! I hope you’re well, and, at least in the US, starting to wind down (or gear up?) for the Thanksgiving break later this week.

I’m personally feeling extremely over the internet at the moment. While it’s been fun to watch Elon Musk step on more rakes than Sideshow Bob, it’s also a deeply disheartening reminder that the planet’s global social infrastructure is nothing but a series of playthings in the hands of private individuals. (Note: I think this was not long after he had made his stupid weed joke offer to buy Twitter and their board was like “hey we’re required by our shareholders to take you up on that hilariously overpriced offer, dingus,” and so he tried to get out of it for months by crying bots but was ultimately forced to pony up.)

This internet malaise means I really don’t feel like spending a million hours doing online research right now. Instead, I’m going to try something different with this edition of the paid newsletter and tell you all about an amazing thing I actually OWN. It’s not jewelry, so I can only ask for your patience and hope you’ll be as enthralled with this thing as I am.1

Ten years ago, I was rooting around an antiques show in Elverson, PA when I came across an old, unmarked hardback notebook filled with page after page of recipes, all handwritten in exquisite 19th-century copperplate script. I asked the dealer about the book, and she said she’d found it at an estate sale, but no one there had known anything about it and she herself hadn’t had time to do any research on it — but if I was interested, she said she would give it to me for $50.

SOLD!

I got it home and dove in. Each page features one or more handwritten recipes, and each one is titled and attributed to a woman. The first page has a more recent pencil inscription stating that the book was received as a gift in 2005, and provides a little more info: “The Recipes of Mrs. J.H. Rhorer (née Julia Comly) and other ladies of Pewee Valley, Ky. Copied by Mr. and Mrs. Rhorer.”

A few minutes on the website of the Pewee Valley Historical Society told me that the lady who transcribed the book, Julia Ann Comly Rhorer, was born in 1822. In the 1840s she married Jonas Huber Rhorer (1814-1896), a prominent and well-liked banker in Louisville, Ky and the couple had two children, Louisa and Melvin. The family lived in an estate in Kentucky’s Pewee Valley called “The Locust,” which later became famous in 1895 when Annie Fellows Johnston used it as the setting of her The Little Colonel series of children’s books.

It sounds like life was pretty good for the Rhorers over the years — Julia kept house and Jonas held down various positions at the Savings Bank of Louisville while also dabbling in real estate and local philanthropic enterprises.

*ominous background music builds*

BUT THEN:

It seems Jonas had spent 1871-1880 systematically embezzling vast amounts of money from the bank! The recap above is from the front page of the January 16, 1880 edition of the New York Times, and according to the Pewee Valley Historical Society, the final tally of stolen funds totaled $118,000 — the equivalent of $3.4 million today. Much of it, they say, went into post-Civil War real estate speculation, and Rhorer actually mortgaged The Locust twice in the 1870s — once to one of his fellow officers at the bank, which maybe should have set off an alarm bell? Apparently not. Jonas was so trusted that no one would even DREAM of double-checking the numbers he was entering into the bank’s ledgers.

His confession — a note on his desk that stated “I am a defaulter, and a large defaulter, probably to the extent of the entire capital stock of this bank. I have gone to jail and shall give myself up” — was followed by a trial, and he was sentenced to one year in prison.

The jury also recommended clemency, however, and Jonas was so well-liked and respected that people from all over the state — including the directors of the bank he had literally just ruined — wrote to the governor of Kentucky, begging him to pardon Rhorer. The Pewee Valley Historical Society website features a transcribed petition signed by 80 percent of the adult population of the Valley, stating that they knew Jonas had committed a crime, but they were convinced he had always intended to restore the funds and had just hit a patch of bad luck.

His wife Julia — who keeps being referred to as “aged,” even though I think she was around 58 at the time — put up her own inheritance to help repay the bank’s customers, and that also went a long way towards earning people’s goodwill and sympathy. The governor did pardon Jonas, but the two still lost everything and all of the Rhorer properties — including The Locust — were sold in 1884. I don’t know exactly what happened to the couple after that, but I suspect they went to live with their daughter Louisa. Her husband was a Presbyterian minister who practiced in various locations including Wytheville, VA, where Julia and Jonas were both buried following their deaths in the late 1890s.

So that’s the background. BACK TO THE COOKBOOK!

It obviously predates 1880, because that’s when everything came crashing down. And if there ever was any question that this cookbook belonged to the Rhorer’s of Pewee Valley, it would be answered by this 1879 map of the Pewee Valley landowners on the Historical Society website. Many of the names that appear as contributors to the cookbook — Muir, Armstrong, Monks, Allen, etc. — coincide with the names of the Rohrer’s neighbors. This project was a community effort.

Here’s the first recipe. Salsify — “a root vegetable that has an oyster-like flavour when cooked” — must have made for a delicious soup, because this is one of the messiest pages in the book.

Measurements such as a “tea-cup,” “coffee-cup” and “a piece of butter the size of a walnut” are used throughout the book, and “buttered writing paper” is mentioned as a non-stick surface for baking. Most of the instructions are straightforward, but some of the contributors are more descriptive than others.

**ATTENTION: SCROLL PAST THIS NEXT RECIPE IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH**

Speaking of descriptive, Julia provides a particularly graphic recipe for calf’s head stew that reminds me just how glad I am to live in the 21st century.

Of course, I very much doubt Mrs. Julia Rhorer was anywhere near the vicinity when the above instructions were carried out. As the researcher and food historian Stephen Schmidt noted in his 2015 essay “What Manuscript Cookbooks Can Tell Us that Printed Cookbooks Do Not,” cookbooks like Julia’s might have been handwritten, but they were still created for and used by the elite. Food was expensive — especially in the quantities required by some of these recipes — and the time and attention needed to devote to a recipe was a luxury rarely available to lower-class women.

Many women of the recipe-using classes personally “made,” with their own hands, few of the recipes in the printed cookbooks they owned and in the receipt books they wrote. They gave—or read—the recipes to their cooks, who may have dispatched them with the aid of still other hired help.

If you find any of this cookbook history interesting, the essay above is part of the incredible Manuscript Cookbook Survey website, and I wholeheartedly encourage you to explore it further, because it is an absolute GOLD. MINE.

Back to the Rhorer cookbook. The handwriting is uniform and exquisite throughout, and I was particularly charmed by the two recipes above, in which the word “meringue” clearly baffled Julia (or her husband) enough to initially leave it blank, and then go back and fill it in later, misspelled, in a different-colored ink.

When I have some time, I’ll see if I can unearth when and how “Golden Slices” became “French Toast.”

Life in the 1800s didn’t include a CVS on every block, so food isn’t the only focus of the cookbook. This recipe for Superior Cough Syrup features an ingredient called “life-everlasting,” a plant common to the Carolinas that has been used for generations as a natural remedy for sore throats, colds, asthma and other ailments. This article from the Hilton Head Island and Bluffton LocalLife website provides a great background on the plant and its medicinal history. Originally known by Native Americans as “rabbit tobacco,” it can be smoked, imbibed as a tea or even used in aromatic little stuffed pillows. The plant gets its unusually optimistic name because it can be dried and stored for a long period of time.

The final page of the notebook is dedicated to two recipes for “invalids,” and it was clearly referenced many times, judging by the heavy staining and (very old) repairs to the paper.

The mulled wine doesn’t sound half bad, and I think the last line that is partially obscured by the repair says: “This is a mild and delightful stimulant used in convalescence from low forms of disease.” Baby, I AM a low form of disease.

(I also looked up “drachm,” and it is apparently the British spelling of “dram,” an apothecaries’ measurement that can be liquid or dry, equaling 60 grains or one eighth of a fluid ounce.)

I must stop here due to length, but if you would like to see more, please let me know and maybe I’ll add more pages to the online version or something.

Huge thanks to the Pewee Valley Historical Society for most of the information here — and thanks to historical societies everywhere, who do so much invaluable and often unappreciated work so idiots like me can stumble upon it and act like we know something.

Even after 10 years, it still blows my mind that this unassuming little notebook was able to open such a fascinating window into the life of a Kentucky landowner of the 1800s. It’s a wonderful object, but it also stands as proof that there’s a story behind everything — you just need to seek it out.

I also think I’m going to contact the Pewee Valley Historical Society and the Manuscript Cookbook Survey people to see if I can donate the book and/or have it digitized for the website. It’s too interesting to keep to myself. (Note: I haven’t done this yet because I am a mess.)

I hope you’ve enjoyed this edition of the newsletter, and thank you, as always, for all your support. Happy Thanksgiving, and enjoy the rest of your week!

M xxx

Behold: Grand Rhinocrétaire II. This absolute unit is a nearly life-size bronze rhino that, yes, conceals a desk. He is number one of an edition of eight desks created by French artist François-Xavier Lalanne (of the famous husband-and-wife artist duo known as “Les Lalanne”) in 2003, and he’s made of gold patinated bronze, brass and leather.

Les Lalanne enjoyed a long career designing sculpture, furniture and jewelry with a whimsical and sometimes surreal vision that was often inspired by nature. They were initially exhibited alongside Surrealist artists in the 1960s, but they’ve sometimes been considered less intellectually rigorous, which I suppose means their work is too pretty or too fun. I think this quote in the Art Newspaper by one of their former dealers sums up their work perfectly:

“[They were informed by the] Surrealist idea of the radical juxtaposition, the opposite of form follows function. It’s having something that looks like a rhinoceros but then unfolds and becomes all of these other amazing things in a bar. You get this sort of cognitive dissonance but also joy when you start to experience them.”

Yes, more joy please.

Grand Rhinocrétaire II was not Lalanne’s first rhino desk. That one — Rhinocrétaire I — debuted in 1964, and it was literally his first sculptural work undertaken after he’d decided to quit painting. It remains his most iconic. Like the piece above, Rhinocrétaire I also concealed a desk — as well as a safe, a bar and wine storage, AND it had built-in electric desk lamps. It lived in the collection of one family from 1964 to 2023, when it was sold in a single-lot auction at Christie’s Paris for a record-breaking €18.3 million. (Click on that link above for a series of images and a cool but potentially seizure-inducing video.)

Grand Rhinocrétaire II stomped on its hefty estimate of $3-5 million and sold for $16.4 million in last Wednesday’s Important Design live auction at Sotheby’s New York. Hopefully whoever bought him also picked up this circa 1902 Carlo Bugatti Throne Chair.

While I have you here looking at non-jewelry-related whimsy, be sure to scroll through the Maurice Sendak auctions that happened last week at Christie’s New York. The Maurice Sendak: Artist, Collector, Connoisseur Online auction closed on Thursday, and the live auction was held the day before. It included — alongside his own original artwork — an extraordinary collection of prints and drawings by artists including Goya, Blake, Stubbs, Fuseli, Toulouse-Lautrec, Cezanne and Picasso.

It also included “A Snail guarding their Nest,” the ridiculously charming Beatrix Potter watercolor above. Signed and dated 1898, it depicts a snail warding off some woodlice1 with a tiny spade. The piece was estimated at $12,000 – $18,000 and sold for $40,000 because it’s awesome.

But back to the online auction. This one’s fun — there are a lot of prints in this sale, too, but also some Disney animation sketches, a drawing of Sendak’s beloved dog Jennie, and a Bugs Bunny that Chuck Jones drew on a napkin.

Both sales were in support of the Sendak Fellowship at the Maurice Sendak Foundation, “a residency programme that encourages, teaches and supports artists who tell stories with illustration.” Lord knows they need whatever they can get now that Sam Altman has stolen and churned all their work into a giant blender of AI slop.

The Sotheby’s “High Jewelry”2 auction in New York was on Friday, and it included the usual big silly diamonds, like this 35.01 carat Graff ice cube. I seem to be going with a more whimsical theme today, though, so I’ll point out one of my favorite pieces of jewelry: the “La Méduse” clip-brooch created by French designer Jean Schlumberger for Tiffany & Co.

Schlumberger started his design career making brooches for Parisian flea markets and buttons for Elsa Schiaparelli, but it wasn’t until after his service in the French Army and Free French Forces in World War II that he embraced jewelry full-time. He and his business partner, Nicolas Bongard, opened a jewelry store in New York City in 1946, followed by a Paris location in 1950.

In 1956 the pair was asked to join Tiffany & Co. After decades of design prowess, the famous company was struggling, so the newly installed Tiffany chairman and force of nature Walter Hoving enlisted a group of artists, including Schlumberger, Elsa Peretti and window designer Gene Moore to shake things up. (If you’re one of my long-timers, you may remember I waxed poetic about the endlessly creative Gene Moore back in 2020.)

Schlumberger’s designs for Tiffany went on to become some of the company’s most iconic pieces, particularly his “Bird on a Rock” brooch. That design, and the one above, showcase his love of nature and tendency toward whimsy. He was particularly enamored with sea life, and his “La Méduse” brooch depicts a stylized jellyfish with a domed mantle of moonstones and diamonds, swirling arms of sapphire and articulated tentacles of gold that move with the wearer.

The piece sold just over its $60,000 - $90,000 estimate for $95,250.

The 10.38 carat diamond above dates to the mid-18th century and is known as the “Marie-Thérèse Pink.” We know from extensive documentation that it belonged to Queen Marie Antoinette’s daughter, Duchess Marie-Thérèse d’Angoulême, but there’s considerable speculation that it first belonged to the Queen herself and was included in the stash of precious jewelry she entrusted to her hairdresser prior to her failed escape attempt from Paris in 1791.

Following Marie Antoinette’s death and the fall of the monarchy, that stash of jewels was given to Marie-Thérèse, her only surviving child. The history of the stone — involving a tiara and a hairpin and multiple diamonds — is recounted in detail in the lot essay, but the short version is that it was passed down twice more, landing in the collection of Queen Maria Theresa of Bavaria. It then remained in that royal family for generations until 1996, when they sold it at Sotheby’s Geneva.

It’s now available again, this time cradled in a diamond-studded blackened platinum fleur-de-lis ring setting by none other than the famous and reclusive jewelry designer Joel Arthur Rosenthal — a.k.a. JAR, who you’re probably sick of reading about in this newsletter. Sorry.

Even without the royal pedigree and JAR setting, the stone itself is lovely. It’s a 10.38-carat kite-shaped fancy purple-pink diamond that, according to Sotheby’s, most likely originated from the legendary Golconda mines of India, which were known for producing diamonds of extraordinary size and purity — including the Koh-i-Noor and the Hope Diamond — before they were exhausted in 1830. It’s estimated to sell for $5 – $7 million in today’s Magnificent Jewels auction at Christie’s New York, but it’s probably going to go for way more.

I love the simple elegance of this sterling silver cuff bracelet by American modernist jeweler Ed Weiner (1918-1991). Weiner started his jewelry career in the mid-1940’s in New York City’s Greenwich Village, and Lang’s Antique Jewelry University notes that he actually learned he had “skilled hands” while working in a radio assembly shop during his service in World War II.

Weiner was basically self-taught, and his approach to jewelry design is explained in this article by Toni Lesser Wolf on the jewelry trade site Ganoskin:

A simple man, Wiener believed in reducing a design to its essentials, eliminating extraneous elements. He compared jewelry design to jazz improvisation, where chordal embellishments build up until they become more important than the harmony itself, after which the musician deletes, paring the passage down to the core—the most brilliant tonal statement being left—just as in exceptional visual design.

This sleek cuff from 1950 is a good example of that pared-down approach. It’s included in the June 25th Summer Jewels & Watches auction at Rago in Lambertville, PA, and it has an estimate of $3,500–4,500.

This is bananas. It’s literally a four-poster bed MADE OF GLASS.

The piece was created by the English firm F. & C. Osler. Based in Birmingham, the company started out in 1807 making prisms for chandeliers, but the second generation expanded production to include decorative furnishings and candelabra.

Osler became innovators in the creation of glass furniture and exhibited in the 1878 Exposition Universelle in Paris, where their furnishings drew a more restrained reaction from the Europeans but absolutely wowed the Eastern clientele. The opulent designs appealed to the elite Indian Maharajahs, but the material was also extremely practical — what better to withstand a hot, humid climate than cool, impervious glass?

The ca. 1880-90 gilt metal, cut crystal and ruby glass bed is part of a suite commissioned by an Indian royal family. There’s also a cut glass throne chair, some tables and a pair of mirrors. I recommend clicking through because the detail is extraordinary. What must they weigh?

The bed is estimated at £100,000 – £150,000 ($136,000 - $204,000), and it and the other pieces are included in The Exceptional Sale at Christie’s London on July 1st.

Circa 1600, this German parcel-gilt cup and cover features an elaborately decorated base, stand and cover that cradle the shell of a turbo, or sea snail. The base of the piece is chased with a band of turtles and leaves along with some applied creepy crawlies, and a mermaid stem supports the shell.

The cover depicts the Biblical story of Jonah and the Whale (or “large fish” as it’s described in the Hebrew Bible). You probably know the gist of the story — Jonah was told to do something by God which he didn’t do, so as a result he got eaten by a big fish and was trapped there for three days and three nights until he apologized and got horked back out. The “eating” part is intricately depicted here with some additional embellishments — and I have to say, if I had to choose between being whale food or escaping only to be trapped eye-to-eye with a spider as big as my head, I’m choosing whale.

The lot notes helpfully provide us with instructions on preparing a nautilus or turbo shell for display, courtesy of Gerhardus Everardus Rumphius, a scientist for the Dutch East India Company in 1705:

“...the shell is used most often to fashion beautiful drinking bowls such as those known in Europe; to do this one should use the biggest and smoothest ones and look very carefully that they do not have little holes that one can see through anon and which were made by certain warts…, a slimy worm that has a sharp little tooth which can drill through the hard shell…., One should place a complete one (Nautilus shell) in something sour for 10 or 12 days, such as spoiled rice, vinegar or water that has grape leaves rotting in it and then the outer shell will come away, which one should rub away by means of hard scouring…until the mother of pearl has come through everywhere, which one then rubs with a weak aqua-fortis [a.k.a. nitric acid], until it has acquired its perfect luster, and finally rinse it with soapy water.”

The piece is included in the July 2nd Silver Treasures from the Collection of Baron and Baronne Bertrand de Giey live auction at Sotheby’s London. It’s estimated at £100,000 - £150,000, or $136,000 - $204,000.

There are lots of other creature-inspired cups in that auction, but it will surprise exactly none of you to learn that I prefer this little ca. 1560-1561 Flemish silver owl that looks like Peter Lorre.

That’s it for today, guys. It’s all a bit random, but hopefully something here brought you unexpected joy (or at least a few minutes of distraction). I’m just sorry I can’t work from home at my rhinoceros.

Enjoy the rest of your week!

M xx

I have to show you this incredible 17th century jade-hilted Mughal dagger that I had originally highlighted in one of my discarded posts. It was included in Splendour: The Philippe Missillier Collection of Islamic & Indian Arms and Armour at Sotheby’s London on April 29th, and I recommend having a look through the whole auction because it’s super interesting and some of the pieces are absolutely stunning.

There are other carved horse-hilted daggers in the auction, but Sotheby’s says this particular one is extremely rare because the hilt — which is carved from a single piece of pale green jade — also features the heads of four other animals, two rams and two lions. The eyes of the horse are inlaid with gold and set with black-and-white banded onyx, while the additional animals feature ruby eyes set in gold.

Here’s a close-up:

The curved blade is made of double-edged watered steel, with a central ridge and a chiseled arabesque decoration that’s overlaid with gold at the forte, or the strongest part of the blade.

The piece was estimated at £50,000 - £80,000 ($38,000 - $60,000) but sold for £444,500 ($334,000), which just shows that my eye for this stuff is never going to align with my bank account.

Heads up, Sotheby’s has decided to rename their Magnificent Jewels auctions. Here’s the explanation:

As the global leader in luxury auctions, Sotheby’s continually responds to the changing profiles and behaviors of the modern collector. To this end, our legendary Magnificent Jewels auctions have been renamed ‘High Jewelry,’ a title that aligns more closely with today’s increasingly digital marketplace. This change raises our online visibility, furthering our reach to new audiences and confirming our commitment to outstanding results."

Does it? Swell.

So anyway, their HIGH JEWELRY sale in Geneva was last Tuesday, and the blockbuster lot was the Mediterranean Blue, a big ol’ 10.03-carat Fancy Vivid blue diamond. You guys know I’m usually all *fart noise* about diamonds, but I must admit I’m very partial to a blue. They’re really fricking pretty, plus they’re cool — I told you guys a while back about how they come from far deeper in the earth than other diamonds, thanks to boron (the element that gives them their color) piggybacking into the depths of the earth’s mantle on a shifting oceanic plate billions of years ago.

Blue diamonds are also tough to cut. The crystals are usually asymmetrical and the color sometimes isn’t evenly distributed throughout the rough, so it takes very careful study and cutting to bring out the best in the stone. As a result, they’re often seen in slightly tweaked versions of traditional cuts. In this case, the Mediterranean Blue is a “cushion modified brilliant-cut,” which means it’s a brilliant cut — which is usually round — that’s been modified into a cushion cut, which has a more rectangular outline with softly rounded edges.

Sotheby’s says the cutting process alone took six months, following a full year of study of the original 31.93 carat rough stone. It was mined in 2023 from South Africa’s famous Cullinan Mine (formerly known as the Premier Mine), which is the source of some of the world’s most extraordinary blue diamonds.

The stone was estimated to sell for $20 million, and the bidding opened with a bid of 9 million Swiss francs. I watched the livestream as the offers ping-ponged between two phone bidders, and the battle went on for around three minutes until one of them — according to National Jeweler, it was an American private collector — finally won out with a bid of 15 million Swiss francs. The buyer’s premium and other fees bumped the final price to 17.9 million Swiss francs, or $21.5 million.

Christie’s is still using the “Magnificent Jewels” handle — gosh, how passé — and they held their big Geneva sale last Wednesday. The official title was Magnificent Jewels Including A Bouquet of Gems: A Superb Collection of Jewels by JAR, and as you can probably guess, it included a 21-piece private collection of jewelry created by Joel Arthur Rosenthal, a.k.a. JAR. (I’ve talked about the reclusive designer in the past, so if you missed it, go here to read up on his background!)

Two of the JAR pieces stood out to me as excellent representations of his work. The chain necklace above showcases his love of color — featuring a setting of 18k rose gold and blackened silver, the piece is a color wheel of gemstones, including round brown diamonds, emeralds, tourmalines, tsavorite and spessartine garnets, peridots, purple, orange and pink sapphires, topazes, fire opals, rubies, pink and purple spinels, amethysts, and aquamarines. I know it looks a bit gaudy laid out like that, but do click through to see it on a model. It’s really pretty.

The other piece I want to point out highlights JAR’s mastery of sculptural jewelry. His “Apricot Blossom” bangle features flowers with diamond-set petals and reddish orange and yellow enamel stamens, supported by a branch made of blackened silver and yellow gold.

The photo doesn’t do it justice, so please click here to watch a video charmingly narrated by François Curiel, Chairman of Christie’s EMEA (Europe, Middle East and Africa). Curiel presents a short background on JAR’s life — although I’d happily listen to him talk for hours on any topic — but most importantly we get to see video of the bangle, with closeups that allow us to compare the workmanship of the rough bark-like texture of the apricot branch with the exquisite pavé gem-setting technique that JAR is known for.

The bangle was estimated to sell for up to 550,000 Swiss francs ($650,000), but it left that number in the dust, reaching 2.4 million Swiss francs, or $2.8 million.

I love this piece. It’s nothing religious — in fact, it’s a mid-19th century bangle commemorating a champion British thoroughbred racehorse called Lord Clifden (1860-1875), who won a number of big races in the 1860s. The bangle is made of gold, with old-cut diamond-set letters spelling out LORD CLIFDEN within a central band of brown guilloché enamel. It was included in the Knightsbridge Jewels sale at Bonhams London yesterday, but it didn’t sell — probably because it’s missing a bunch of diamonds. Or because it’s a bracelet dedicated to a Victorian horse. Or because I’m poor.

Lord Clifden was a bay colt who was purchased by Carnegie Robert Jervis, the 3rd Viscount St Vincent (1825-1879) in 1863. The horse often won despite being prone to bad starts, as is documented in this 1863 account of the St. Leger Stakes in Doncaster, England, in which he came from three lengths behind to win “in the most gallant style” by a half a length. That race made the Viscount quite a bit of money, and it doesn’t look like we have a precise date as to when the bangle was made, but it was most likely commissioned around this time as Jervis eventually sold Lord Clifden in 1870. The bangle subsequently passed down through the family, all the way to Edward Jervis, the 8th Viscount St Vincent (1951-2023).

One final note: After Lord Clifden retired from racing, Bonhams says he became champion sire of Great Britain and Ireland in 1876, and “his sire line survives today through thoroughbred Bay Ronald and his son Dark Ronald.” DARK RONALD.

This intriguing little silver object is actually a set of “Napier’s bones,” which, according to Sotheby’s, is:

“an arithmetical device for multiplication, division and extracting square roots. It was created following the publication of Mirifici Logarithmorum Canonis Descriptio in 1614 by the Scottish mathematician, physicist and astronomer John Napier (1550-1617), 8th Laird of Merchiston.”

I’ve never heard of it before, so Wikipedia told me (just before the math fear set in and I peaced out) that those little rods with the engraved figures help to quickly multiply and divide numbers by using addition and subtraction.

This set dates to around 1670 and it’s a miracle that it’s intact, given that each of those little rods can be removed depending on which one(s) you need for your calculations. As for the decoration, let’s go back to Sotheby’s:

The cover of the case is engraved with the arms of St. John impaling Cavendish for Oliver St. John, 2nd Earl of Bolingbroke (before 1634 - 1688), who in 1654 married Frances (d. 1678), daughter of William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle-upon-Tyne (1593-1676).

“Impaling” is a violent word, but in heraldry it simply means that two coats of arms have been combined in one shield to indicate a union, and — as in this case — the union depicted was often marital.

The piece has a detailed provenance, and it’s well documented as having passed through generation after generation of the aristocratic Montagu family until 1832, when the Hon. Lucy Elizabeth Montagu-Scott married Cospatrick Alexander Douglas-Home, the 11th Earl of Home. From that point on it descended to the present day in the collection of the Earls of Home at their estate in the Scottish Borders.

It’s included in today’s Noble & Private Collections including Property from the Earl of Home auction at Sotheby’s London and is estimated at £5,000 - £7,000, or $3700 - $5,200.

This lovely piece is known as the Astor Turquoise and Diamond Tiara. In 1929, Cartier purchased the platinum and diamond bandeau at the center of the tiara from a client, listing it in their records as a “head ornament, 3 large round diamonds in the centre, in Boucheron case.”

At this moment in time, the world was still reeling from the 1922 discovery of the tomb of King Tutankhamun, and Eastern design motifs were heavily influencing the decorative arts of the West. Cartier were well known for incorporating Egyptian, Mughal and Persian styles in their jewelry — particularly via the use of carved gemstones — and that’s how this very pretty but fairly tame tiara got zhuzhed up with a series of Mughal-inspired carved turquoise leaves and fans.

The additions were made by the craftsmen of English Art Works, Cartier’s London workshop. Once the piece was finished, it was displayed in a 1930 charity event organized by the National Jewellers' Association called the “Pageant of Living Jewels” at the Jewels of Empire Ball held at the extremely Art Deco Park Lane Hotel in London. According to the lot notes, as many as 60 society ladies were presented as “living jewels,” wearing precious gems pillaged — sorry, “sourced” — from across the British Empire:

There were five representations of each gem. A few of the Empire Ball’s “living jewels” are recorded as Muriel Ashley (emerald), Barbara Cartland – then Mrs McCorquodale (jade), Mrs C. A. Cartwright (jet), Lady Diana Cooper (diamond), Rosita Forbes (ruby), the actress Gertrude Lawrence (black pearls), Mrs Claude Leigh (gold), Gwen Mond (jade) and Lady Mary Strickland (sapphire). Margaret Whigham, then ‘Deb of the Year’ and later the infamous Duchess of Argyll, wrote, “Bridget (Poulett – favourite of Cecil Beaton) and I were told to wear coral and turquoise respectively – not diamonds and emeralds as we had hoped”.

Waldorf Astor, the 2nd Viscount Astor (1879-1952) purchased the tiara for his wife Nancy shortly after the ball. I’m out of space, so click through to see her wearing it in a photo alongside Charlie Chaplin, George Bernard Shaw and her husband at the 1931 premiere of City Lights at the Dominion Theatre in London. What an extraordinary piece of ephemera.

The tiara is included in the Bonhams London Jewels sale on June 5th and is estimated at £250,000 - £350,000, or $330,000 - $470,000.

OMG, you guys: remember when I was all jazzed a little while back that an El Greco painting of St. Sebastian was going up for auction? Holy crap. Christie’s literally wound up yanking the painting the day before the auction because the Romanian government contested the sale and stated their intent to have the piece legally repatriated to Romania. Christie’s gave them a month and battle lines were DRAWN, y’all.

So apparently, the painting was originally in the collection of the Romanian Royal Crown and details are pretty murky, but it’s believed that King Michael of Romania sold it to the Wildenstein & Co. Gallery in New York in 1976. And now King Michael’s nephew Prince Paul of Romania has surfaced and is ALSO trying to stake a claim. (I should mention that 76yo Paul was a fugitive — trying to avoid a jail sentence in Romania over some sort of illegal land deal — until just last month, when he was arrested in France.)

Prince Paul says that King Michael (who died in 2017) was a Nazi/Soviet/whatever “puppet” who stole two boxcars-worth of Romanian royal treasure (including the El Greco) in the 1940s and hid it for decades in a Swiss bank until both his parents had finally passed away.

(I cannot express to you just how much this brand of batshit royal outrage makes me want to yodel with joy.)

Paul is the grandson of Michael’s father, King Carol II. He’s claiming that the Romanian government has no right to the painting because Carol II was its sole owner, and so he wants Christie’s to give it to him for free — lololololololol good luck with that. You can read about the whole sordid thing in the bastion of class that is the New York Post. (At one point the article mentions the Nazis still being in power in 1947. Who needs fact checkers? We have AI now!)

The sale has now been blocked until the end of June. I’d put my money on Christie’s, but we’ll see. Hopefully it’ll get pushed back even farther so Paulie has more time to escape back to Malta or wherever.

Ok that’s it. Hope you’re all well — and if you’re in the US, enjoy the long weekend. Hopefully the rain will stop for five minutes so I can go outside and mess around with some plants. Also, I promise not to be so long with the next installment — the High Magnificent Jewelsry auctions in New York are coming up next month, so I’ll be sure to update you with my always invaluable commentary.

Love you guys! Bye, M x

In other news, last week Prince’s shirt from Purple Rain didn’t sell at Bonham’s, while Shaun’s bloody outfit from Shaun of the Dead did. (Granted, it was a lot cheaper). Anyway, on we go!

The final Karl Lagerfeld auction (in a seemingly never-ending series) is under way at Sotheby’s Paris and will continue until January 31. I don’t want to say it’s the leftover dregs, but there sure are a shit ton of iPods on offer in Karl Lagerfeld’s Estate V, Le Studio. And a single random spoon? There’s also one of Choupette’s cat beds, and it’s in black velvet of all things, darling. You know she haired that sucker up like a pro, but obviously that’s why she needed a coterie of personal maids.

Much of the sale contains clothing — including full outfits, or “total looks” — as well as fashion sketches and accessories. My eye was particularly taken by this white-enameled porcelain collar by the Berlin-based jewelry brand uncommon matters; I believe it was part of their debut collection. It’s a wee bit puritan, but I think that’s why I like it.

Note: Jessica of the Drinks with Broads and Go Fug Yourself team covered this auction in a recent newsletter and I was amused to read that I am not the only person to have once dressed up as Karl Lagerfeld for Halloween. Unlike Heather, though, I DID know he was a colossal asshole; I just wanted an excuse to buy a pair of driving gloves.

This wonderful silver ice bowl sold last week in the Christie’s New York Important Americana auction, and I couldn’t let it go by without a mention. It’s by Gorham and takes the form of a craggy, icicle-laced iceberg, with two polar bears patrolling the rim. The matching pierced spoon features a third menacing polar bear and a rope twisted around the handle.

The markings on the underside of the bowl tell us it is Gorham ice bowl #125, which debuted on April 15, 1870. It was the most popular ice bowl in the company’s inventory, and according to the lot notes, the bowl’s design was inspired by current events:

The iconography of the present ice bowl relates to the 1867 purchase of Alaska from Russia for $7.2 million, or about two cents per acre, by Secretary of State William H. Seward under President Andrew Johnson. Originally ridiculed by Congress and the press, the new Territory of Alaska was dubbed as Seward’s “ice box” and President Johnson’s “polar bear garden.” Also at this time, the Bostonian Frederic Tudor (1783-1864) developed the technology to harvest, market, and sell ice to an affluent client base. Therefore, as a luxury good in the late 19th century, silver ice bowls such as this one, decorated with motifs of icebergs and polar bears possibly referring to the contemporary nicknames for the Territory of Alaska, reflected its value and prestige.

It was estimated at $20,000 – $30,000 and sold for just a hair more at $32,760.

In general, this is an fun auction to scroll through — there are loads of unnerving children, some seriously bananas furniture, and even a hand-written ca. 1788 copy of the Declaration of Independence that sold for $2,470,000.

This particular portrait also caught my eye, not just because of the uncanny resemblance to Esteemed Character Actress and Fugitive from the Law Margo Martindale. It’s actually thought to be a portrait of First Lady Martha Washington by William Beechey (1753-1839), but whoever it is, I love the understated warmth of her expression as her tiny, almost-hidden dog licks her ungloved hand.

A Swedish wedding crown! This one, in gilded silver with cultured pearl and rock crystal embellishments, dates to around 1962 and was made by the silversmith company Ceson of Gothenburg, Sweden. It’s included in the Weekly Jewelry sale ending today at Bonhams Los Angeles, and is estimated at $400-$600.

Swedish bridal crowns, or brudkrona, date back to the Middle Ages and originated as a Catholic tradition based around the veneration of the Virgin Mary (a.k.a. the Queen of Heaven). The crowns were usually owned by the local church and loaned out to the bride on her wedding day, and while they mainly symbolized chastity and virginity, some also included references to conjugal love, like this ornate early 18th century crown in the Walters Art Museum that features carnations and linden leaves, symbols of enduring marriage and fertility. According to the Swedish-American newspaper Nordstjernan, the crown tradition began to wane early in the 20th century, but is starting to reappear “with the more elaborate, large weddings of late.”

Fashion icon Iris Apfel passed away last year at the age of 102, and 200 items from her personal collection will be offered for sale in Unapologetically Iris: The Collection of Iris Apfel, a Christie’s New York online auction beginning today.

Never without her trademark gigantic round eyeglasses, Apfel’s maximalist personal style was influenced by her travels all over the world for the Manhattan textile firm she had established with her husband in 1950. The pair specialized in reproducing textiles from previous centuries, and their restoration work drew very high-end clients, including no less than NINE U.S. presidents.

Iris was renowned in the fashion and interior design world for mixing and matching colors, textures and patterns in bold, flamboyant ways that, in her hands, seemed effortless and perfect. Her talent didn’t fully break through to the public until 2005, though, when the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art featured an exhibition of her wardrobe Rara Avis: Selections from the Iris Barrel Apfel Collection. It was the first time the Institute honored a living person who wasn’t an actual fashion designer.

Iris didn’t slow down even in her nineties — she was the focus of a documentary in 2014, was immortalized as a Barbie doll in 2018, and in 2019, at the age of 97, she signed a modeling contract with IMG (she liked to call herself a “geriatric starlet.”) Sadly, she lost her husband Carl in 2015, but the two had been happily married for 67 years, and Carl lived to the age of 100.

The collection at Christie’s is a marvel of color, feathers, beads and bangles, and of course I have to shoutout the bangles here, since she was never without an armful. The lot above features two groupings of multicolored lucite bangles, five (including four cuffs) with a googly-eye motif, and the other ten adorned with colorful little beetles. They’re estimated at $300 - $500 but there’s no way they’re going for that low.

I also have to point out “Gussy,” a life-size wooden ostrich that was one of six Iris commissioned in the 1970s. Gussy has a secret surprise, however. Christie’s quotes an interview she did with InStyle Magazine in 2018:

“I used to have my own interior-design business, and every year I’d do a few big buying trips. In the ‘70s I went to Italy and visited the workshop of a fabulous wood carver. I knew I wanted him to make me something, and since I love ostriches, I came up with the crazy idea of having a life-size one carved out of this beautiful bleached wood. Then I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it was a bar too?’ So I designed the wing on a hinge, which allows you to open the ostrich and fill the belly with booze.”

Speaking of ostriches (that’s not something I often get to say), if you have a spare $500,000 – $800,000, why don’t you treat yourself to a 17th century gilded ostrich cup? This German parcel-gilt (which means it’s all silver and some of it is gilded) cup and cover takes the form of an ostrich with a bejeweled and enameled collar. It features the mark of Andreas I Wickert, Augsberg, 1651-1654, and a later coat-of-arms for Johann Joseph Koffler, Edler von Kofflern (1708-1767).

The head and neck of the ostrich are detachable, and the horseshoe in its mouth is a reference to a myth that the bird could digest anything, including iron and other metals. Shakespeare also pitched in:

In Henry VI, Part II, Shakespeare writes a colorful threat for the rebel Jack Cade as he draws his sword on his enemy, Alexander Iden: ‘Ah villain… I’ll make thee eat iron like an ostrich, and swallow a sword like a great pin, ere thou and I part’ (act IV, scene 10).

Even though the myth was debunked, the ostrich still wound up becoming a symbol of the iron industry — a symbol that would appeal to Koffler, who, as Master of the Mint and Mining for the Austrian province of Steiermark, was instrumental in modernizing the iron mining industry in that area.

The piece is included in the Christie’s New York Global Treasury: The Life and Collection of Selim & Mary Zilkha live auction on February 6th.

I think I’ve found a new quest. The Silver & Objects of Vertu sale at Wooley & Wallis on February 5 features a collection of over 30 antique silver nutmeg graters and I’m thoroughly charmed. Much like vesta cases, nutmeg graters were made in many different shapes and sizes — tiny eggs, boxes, cylinders, barrels, etc. — and if you would like to scroll through the collection, the graters start at lot 697.

Nutmeg has a long and bloody history, as Europeans battled and enslaved island villages in Indonesia for control of production, and the Dutch actually traded Manhattan to the British in 1677 in return for a claim on one of those islands. Use of the spice goes back centuries, and it was thought to have medicinal benefits — one account from 1597 claimed it was “good against freckles in the face” — as well as mystical or magical properties, since it’s a potent hallucinogen when consumed in large quantities.

Nutmeg graters first became popular among the wealthy (the only people who could afford it) in the early 1600s, and according to Kovel’s Antique Trader:

Pocket graters for gentlemen to include in their traveling tableware sets emerged in the mid-1600s. The first ones were just cylindrical silver graters, with a solid silver tube acting as a case to store them in. Later, elaborately decorative ones emerged made from silver, gold, ivory, brass, and enamel.

The late-17th century cylindrical grater above has a maker’s mark that indicates it was probably made by Thomas Kedder in London sometime around 1690-1700. The initials “S.F.” are scratched into the surface along with a later engraved crest, and the grater can be pulled out of the interior. It’s estimated to sell for between £400 - £600, or $498 - $747.

I’m also charmed by the unmarked but beautifully inscribed oval grater in this lot, which was a precious gift “From Louisa to Clara.”

I didn’t know pastry forks existed, but of course they do. And these are beautiful. Made by Archibald Knox (1864-1933) in his “Medea” pattern for London’s Liberty & Co., they date to around 1902, with a design that features three elongated seed pods surrounded by blue-green enamel.

Knox’s work spans the Arts & Crafts, Celtic Revival and Art Nouveau styles, and as a lead designer for Liberty, his designs were widely known and influential. He also was a teacher, and this account from one of his former students makes it sound like he may have been the first person to use slides to teach art history. (I would explain what “slides” are to my younger readers, but that may result in me shattering into a pile of Gen X dust.)

The forks are included in the Modern Design online auction ending February 6 at Skinner Marlborough, and they’re estimated to sell for $400 - $600.

I humbly implore you to further indulge this former art history major: You can actually buy a mothereffing El Greco. An EL GRECO! And St. Sebastian, no less! That exact painting was on the cover of one of my textbooks in college. Good god. Unfortunately it’s estimated at $7,000,000 – $9,000,000 USD, so it’s not like a normal human being can buy it and our billionaires are all gaping cultural voids and/or Nazi shitbags, so *sad trombone.*

Well, that’s it for now. Just a quick reminder that Saturday is Imbolc, the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Get your corn dollies ready and don’t forget to make a bed for St. Brigid so your crops won’t fail.

Bye, M x

Anyway, on to the stuff!

This ca. 1970s silver and rock crystal 'Mobile' necklace by Swedish silversmith Vivianna Torun Bülow-Hübe (1927–2004) is included in the Fine Jewels auction closing at Sotheby’s London today.

Torun, as she was usually known, was one of the greatest female silversmiths of the 20th century. She began making jewelry as a teenager and went on to settle in various cities throughout her life, setting up workshops in Stockholm, Paris (where she met painters Pablo Picasso, Georges Braque and Henri Matisse), Germany and finally, Indonesia.

In 1967, she became a freelance designer for the Georg Jensen Silversmithy and the piece above was made by them. It’s a great example of her work, which was renowned for its simple yet unconventional style. She once said, to quote a ridiculously heavy book I own called Georg Jensen Holloware: The Silver Fund Collection by David A. Taylor and Jason W. Laskey, that she wanted her jewelry “to be natural, anatomical: adapted to the movements of the human body, to slide up and down, back and forth on the arm.” An example of this philosophy is her 1958 “Mobile” necklace, a single continuous piece of silver topped with quartz that winds around the wearer’s neck and down onto the shoulder. Pieces like this led to her jewelry being described as “body sculpture.”

The elegant necklace above is a later spin on the concept, and it’s estimated at £6,000 - £8,000 GBP, or $7,500 - $10,000 USD.

Ok, I know I’m always going on about archaeological-revival jewelry and the Castellani and blah blah blah, but SURPRISE, I’m doing it again, nerds!!! Check out this circa 1870 Castellani bracelet that features 13 micro mosaic medallions set in gold. The medallions spell out NON RELINQUES, which means “you will not give up.”

And on the inside, against the skin, we have the words NON RELINQUAM, or “I will not give up.” That’s badass.

A version of this bracelet — without the micro mosaics — is in the collection of the Cooper Hewitt Museum in New York. They acquired it in 1964 and translate the inscriptions as “I will not forsake” and “You will not forsake,” wondering in their description if the slogans “may have had patriotic significance for the Castellani family, who were actively involved in the political upheavals in Italy during the middle years of the nineteenth century.” They certainly were, so who knows? It’s possible.

HOWEVER, I’m seeing a lot of shopping sites selling a gold-plated version of the bracelet that was apparently inspired by former First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy. According to these sites, Augusto Castellani was originally commissioned by the British Lord Layard to create the piece as a wedding bracelet for Layard’s wife, and, in a more romantic fashion, they translate the inscriptions as “I will never give up on you,” and “You will never give up on me.”

Again, according to these shopping sites, Castellani made two more bracelets: one for Gwendolyn Talbot, Princesse Borghese, and a third that was commissioned for Princesse de Bogali of Milan by her husband — who supposedly paid Augusto three times the cost of the piece on the condition that he never make another one.

So apparently Jackie Kennedy got wind of the Borghese bracelet and bought it at auction in 1983 for $170,000. (I haven’t been able to track this down yet, but I’m looking!) Her bracelet must have had red tesserae (the tiny stones that comprise the mosaic), because the costume version it inspired features red enamel in place of the micro mosaic. The Jackie connection must be real, because the gold-plated bracelet is apparently available in the gift shop of the Kennedy Center, but I can’t see what they say about it because the site is currently being “refreshed” until December 9.

Anyway, I’m thinking the Jackie bracelet looked like this one, which sold in the 2012 Sotheby’s Magnificent Jewels sale in Geneva for 18,750 CHF, or $16,600 USD. Could it be the same bracelet? I’m sure Sotheby’s would have mentioned the Kennedy provenance, so probably not.

It’s interesting that none of this wedding/aristocracy stuff shows up in any auction descriptions I can find — including the current one! — nor in the description of an all-gold version similar to the Cooper Hewitt bracelet that was sold by the highly respected London jewelers Wartski. It’s also not mentioned in Geoffrey Munn’s book Castellani and Giuliano: Revivalist Jewelers of the 19th Century, although a similar bracelet is pictured. That book was published in 1983, so too late for any Kennedy info, but still — nothing about weddings. Of course that doesn’t mean it’s false, I just haven’t tracked down any reputable sources yet.

So is it all marketing hooey or real? And are there really only three bracelets? Doesn’t look like it, since in my cursory search I’ve found one that’s been in the Cooper Hewitt since 1964, a similar one sold by Wartski presumably after 1964, a red-tesserae version sold by Sotheby’s in 2012, and now this current one, with ivory-colored tesserae.

The bracelet is included in the Sotheby’s Fine Jewels auction happening today, and it’s estimated at £6,000 - £8,000 GBP ($7,500 - $10,000 USD). If you’re interested, that sale contains many more exceptional archaeological- and Renaissance-revival pieces that were gleaned from a private collection.

The Christie’s Jewels Online: The London Edit sale ends on Friday, and it includes this beautiful ca. 1890 hair comb by Fabergé. The comb itself is tortoiseshell with an openwork gold mount in the form of a series of stylized and graduated leaves, each with a diamond-set flower nestled inside. The piece is marked for Fabergé on the mount with an additional scratched-on inventory number, and it still has its original fitted case (!!!). It’s estimated at £4,000 - £6,000 GBP ($5,000 - $7,500 USD).

This women’s suffrage brooch is included in the online Books, Manuscripts and Historical Photographs auction ending December 4th at Bonhams London. It takes the form of a white metal five-bar gate with the words “Only For One” enameled in purple, and it’s pinned to a homemade tri-color silk bow in white, green and purple (the official colors of the suffrage movement). The bow is attached to a purple armband.

Bonhams has added the footnote: “The brooch on this home-sewn armband would appear to be a rare piece as we have been unable to trace another similar one bearing this slogan.” And I agree — I’ve never seen one like this before, either, and god knows I’ve been rooting through auctions and antiques websites on the internet for far longer than I’d like to count.

The lot also includes a selection of women’s suffrage ephemera: 15 issues of Votes for Women from 1908 and 1909, 5 issues of The Suffragette newspaper, 1913-1914, and a novelty postcard depicting a cat dressed as a suffragette that’s postmarked February 1909. The group is estimated at £400 - £600 GBP, or $500 - $750 USD.

Interesting little mystery to snap up there, if anybody has the spare funds (I don’t) and needs a side quest.

Circa 1800, this is an egg of the extinct Great Auk (Pinguinus impennis).

Great auks were large (30-33 inches tall) flightless birds that lived and foraged in the waters of the North Atlantic. They bred on remote rocky islands, living in large colonies and mating for life. The female auk would lay one single egg per year, and both parents took turns incubating it and feeding the chick.

Unfortunately, because they were powerful swimmers but slow and clumsy on land, great auks were sitting ducks for European explorers who killed them in vast numbers for meat, fishing bait and down, while natural history collectors prized their eggs. As numbers dwindled, a far-too-late effort was launched to save the species and the last known pair were killed in 1844 on an island off the coast of Iceland.

So obviously this egg is extraordinarily rare, and thanks to a series of careful stewards, we know its history. It’s known as “Yarrell’s Egg,” after William Yarrell, a celebrated zoologist, bookseller and naturalist who was a contemporary and friend of John James Audubon, Charles Darwin and many others.

There are different tales as to how Yarrell found the egg. According to Sotheby’s, most “reputable” sources say he purchased the egg in a Parisian curiosity shop not long after 1815, but an anecdotal tale supposedly from Yarrell himself says he bought it for two francs from a “fishwoman” in a village near Boulogne.

Since then, it’s had a remarkable journey for something so fragile. According to Errol Fuller’s 1999 book The Great Auk,

“Yarrell kept the egg until his death in 1856 after which it was bought at Stevens’ [Auction Rooms] by the London taxidermist James Gardiner. Gardiner was acting on behalf of Mr. Frederick Bond of Kingsbury, Middlesex who paid £21 for it. During 1875 the egg was sold to Baron Louis d’Hamonville who took it to France but in 1894 it was back at Stevens’ where it was sold to Sir Vauncey Crewe of Calke Abbey, Derbyshire for 300 guineas. In 1925 the egg visited Stevens’ for a third time and was bought by a Mr. Hirch for five guineas more than it cost in 1894. Then it passed through several more hands – A.T. Wilson, F.G. Lupton, and the Reverend F.C.R. Jourdain before being acquired by Captain Vivian Hewitt. Following Hewitt’s death in 1965 the egg languished in a cupboard at the London headquarters of Spink and Son before being bought, in 1993, by Dr. Jack Gibson.”

Fuller is a British author and artist who has written a series of books on extinct birds, including the great auk, the dodo and the passenger pigeon. He purchased Yarrell’s egg from Dr. Jack Gibson in 2008 and deeply researched its provenance for his book, providing extensive documentation, photos and illustrations to fill out its history.

The egg’s present owner bought it from Fuller in 2010, and now it’s landed in the Treasures live auction at Sotheby’s London on December 4th. It’s estimated at £50,000 - £70,000 GBP, or $63,000 - $88,000 USD.

SO, it’s time for the big fancy Magnificent Jewels auctions in New York Citay, and first up is Christie’s on December 10. The showstopper is a 5.72 carat fancy intense blue diamond set in a platinum and diamond band. It’s estimated at $6 million to $8 million.

That’s fine and everything, but the cuff bracelet above stopped me in my tracks. It’s circa 1925, by Georges Fouquet. Georges was the second generation member of a family of Parisian jewelers who navigated the evolution of the flowy Art Nouveau style into the angles of Art Deco so successfully they’re seen as masters of both. (If you’re new here, check out this 2022 post that included Georges’ Art Nouveau “Wings” brooch from 1907-1908.)

The bracelet is layered with lines. First, horizontal bands of black enamel circle the 18k cuff. Over the bands, lines of old- and single-cut diamonds shoot off at various angles, and they in turn are overlaid with vertical strips of rectangular-shaped orange topaz. The piece is crowned by a cabochon emerald.

It’s signed G. Fouquet, “d'après dessin de A.léveillé,” which I believe means that this piece was one that Fouquet designed with the help of Cubist painter and designer André Léveillé. Fouquet was known to seek out and collaborate with emerging artists, which is one of the reasons the firm was able to successfully move from the older, romantic styles into the new Modernist world.

The bracelet is estimated at $150,000 – $250,000 USD.

The next day is Sotheby’s turn. Their Magnificent Jewels auction features this emerald-cut Fancy Intense Purplish Pink diamond — and you know I’m not a big diamond person, but man, that thing is pretty. It’s 7.00 carats and internally flawless and set in a ring by New York jeweler Valentin Magro (but they don’t show that part). It’s estimated to sell for $3,250,000 - $4,250,000.

That’s it for today, pals. I hope my fellow Americans have a happy Thanksgiving, and everyone else enjoys the short break from our bullshit. Also, thank you to the one person (bison?) in South Dakota who recently signed up for this newsletter — now I can finally say that Dearest is read in all 50 US states and 96 countries. That blows my tiny little mind.

Thanks, everybody. Stay well! M x

If you’ve been here for a bit, you’ll know I usually focus on spooky stuff for this October edition. This time we’re going to wander though some ancient materials and motifs, with a side lesson on a rare type of enameling and a couple “check this out”s that don’t fit the theme but are just too interesting to leave out. At the very least, I hope it’ll provide a few minutes of distraction for those of us in the US who are currently working through a complete nervous breakdown.

Circa 1730, this delicate George II enamel and gold mourning ring features a skull and crossbones with white enamel applied en ronde bosse (“in the round”), which is an enameling technique that was popular during the Renaissance but may date as far back as ancient Crete. It’s a difficult technique; Lang Antique Jewelry University explains the process, which involves applying layers of enamel to a 3-dimensional form in such a way that the enamel won’t just melt off the piece during firing. In order for it to work, a special form of gum must be applied to the metal base that — at an extremely precise temperature — adheres the enamel to the metal and then fires away, leaving no trace. Opaque white enamel was most often used in this technique, and it was thickly applied in a series of layers and fired after each layer. It’s also known as “encrusted enamel,” which unfortunately makes it sound like it’s got barnacles stuck to it.

(I find enameling endlessly fascinating — it’s been around for centuries and as a result there are tons of different types and techniques. If you’re interested, that Lang link above is an excellent place to start.)

Back to the ring itself! The band consists of a series of banner shapes enameled in black and featuring the words “ANN BENNET OB’11 APR:1730 AET 24,” which means it’s a mourning ring for Ann Bennet, who died on April 11, 1730, at age 24. There’s a little compartment on the inside of the ring that contains hairwork — possibly Ann’s, but we can’t know for sure.

The ring is included in the Day Two Wooley & Wallis Fine Jewellery auction on Thursday, and it’s estimated at £1,000 - £1,500, or $1,300 - $1,945 USD.

I feel like I have to show you this wonderful thing, too, even though it’s not spooky:

It’s an early 20th century Fabergé carving of a Gloucester Old Spot pig in dendritic agate. It’s included in Day One (today!) of that Wooley & Wallis auction, and the lot notes mention that, while Fabergé created many popular animal studies, they usually reserved this type of agate for other uses like inlay or panels. In this case, though, they think it was a deliberate choice, meant to mimic the patterns of the Gloucester Old Spot breed of pigs.

Also, I didn’t know about this link between the British royal family and Fabergé:

A number of realistically modelled farm animals including pigs were produced from life at the Sandringham estate in 1907, following a suggestion made to King Edward VII by Fabergé’s London agent Henry Bainbridge that the firm recreate a number of the animals across the estate. With subjects ranging from the King's own terrier dog Caesar, to the cows, pigs, ducks and chickens that populated the farmland around them, the animals of this ‘Sandringham Commission’ were reproduced in wax sculptures by the carver Boris Frödman-Cluzel, before being sent back to the Russian workshops to be immortalised in hardstone. They were then sent back to Fabergé's London branch for purchase, mostly, but not exclusively, by those who wished to gift them back to the Royal Family. Such was the appeal that some were even acquired by members of the family themselves, such as Princess Victoria, who bought a model of a recumbent white sow in pale pink aventurine quartz in 1912.

Wooley & Wallis don’t know if this piggie was part of that commission, but they do note that “King Edward VII was particularly proud of his pigs,” which (charmingly) makes him sound like Lord Emsworth and the Empress of Blandings. It’s estimated at £5,000 - £7,000 ($6,500 - $9,000).

Circa 1860, this tiara comb features polished branches of red coral set on a tortoiseshell comb. The dealer, London’s Rowan and Rowan, refer to it as a “crown of thorns” comb, in reference to the wreath of thorns described in the New Testament as being set on the head of Jesus by his captors.

According to the GIA, humans have been wearing coral for 30,000 years, and of course in that time it’s become associated with a whole host of myths and superstitions: it was formed from the blood of Medusa, it quiets the oceans, it protects babies, it wards off evil spirits and brings all good things to its wearer. The comb above dates to a particularly popular time in its history, as coral was all the rage in 19th-century London. It was harvested from the waters near Naples, Italy and carved and polished by local artisans for the London market, and according to the Victoria & Albert Museum, the jewelers Phillips Brothers were the main supplier of coral goods in London — to the extent that Robert Phillips “received the order of the Crown of Italy for his services to the coral industry in Naples.”

It looks like the comb above was actually retailed by the London crown jewelers Garrard & Co., because it still has its original fitted case. I usually love coral tiaras but this one is a bit too…..I don’t know, fleshy? squirmy? for me. Here’s a Phillips Brothers tiara in the V&A; it’s a little more structured and includes round polished coral beads that mimic berries.

If you have some evil spirits to banish, Rowan and Rowan are selling the comb for £2,200, or $2,900 USD.

As soon as I heard that Bonhams Los Angeles was holding an online auction titled Elegance of the Eternal: The Anne Rice Collection, I tripped over myself to get to the website. Anne Rice! That’s gotta be some good stuff! Well folks, let me tell you: there is SO. MUCH. FLATWARE. I’m not kidding — like, a bananas amount of flatware.

But if you continue scrolling you’re eventually rewarded with her book collection, which includes some tempting annotated copies, including her own Interview With The Vampire and other famous works like The Godfather and Gone With The Wind. There’s also a selection of themed groupings of books from her personal library, and I think if I were going to try for something, it would be this collection of 18 books on witchcraft. I won’t, though, because while Bonhams estimated the group at $200 - $300 USD, the current bid is $3,800. The sale ends tomorrow. Ah well.

The website of New Orleans antique dealers M.S. Rau is always worth a root, because you never know when something like this ca. 1780 French gunpowder flask might pop up. The flask is made of coconut shell and is hand-carved with scenes of burglars and a distressed maiden, but the end of the shell depicts a formidable legendary beast called a “bugbear.”

I always love stumbling across a new monster, especially one that originated in English folklore. Some Dungeons & Dragons or My Little Pony (!?) fans may already be familiar with bugbears, but they’re a type of hobgoblin invented to frighten misbehaving children. The term dates back to the 1500s, and according to Merriam Webster, the “bug” in bugbear:

refers not to an insect, but instead comes from the Middle English word bugge. This bugge was used for all kinds of imaginary spooky creatures — from ghosts and goblins to scarecrows—that cause fright or dread. In the 1500s this bug was combined with bear (as in the animal) to form bugbear, even though there is little evidence that either a bug or bugbear took an ursine form. In fact, based on its earliest known uses, bugbear began as an all-purpose word for things that cause fear or dread, not just supernatural beasties.

This particular bugbear — who, to be honest, looks a little too anxious to be scary — features glass eyes and a stopper “mouth” that’s attached by a chain to a lug on the side of the piece. M.S. Rau says flasks of this sort may have been carved by soldiers or sailors passing through the East or West Indies, and possibly also by French prisoners of war. They’re selling it for $8,850, so obviously Mr. Bugbear will be staying in New Orleans for the time being.

Also, side note: don’t miss this incredible ca. 1810 model of a guillotine carved by a French prisoner during the Napoleonic Wars. I told you M.S. Rau has cool stuff.

Holy hell. This poster is by Henri Privat-Livemont (1861-1936), a Belgian Art Nouveau painter and poster artist. The piece, which is titled La réforme le 21 Novembre. Le masque Anarchiste, 1897 (“The Reform on November 21, the Anarchist Mask”) is up for sale in the November 7th Symbolist Sale at Bonhams Brussels, Chaussée de Charleroi.

It’s clearly an upsetting and violent image, and all Bonhams has to say is:

"La Réforme" features a striking and controversial image depicting Livemont's first wife in a moment of violence, reflecting both personal turmoil and social commentary. This powerful work showcases his ability to blend beauty with darker themes.

Hey thanks.

I haven’t found anything that confirms this yet, but the date of the poster and the word “Montjuich” make me think this poster is a reaction to the Montjuïc trial in Barcelona, which, according to Wikipedia, led to the execution of anarchist supporters and “a severe repression of the struggle for workers’ rights. During this era, ‘Montjuïc’ was synonymous with barbarism based on the torture of anarchists and others imprisoned there.”

I can’t find much about the poster itself, although it’s available on page after page of art reproduction sites. One of those sites does contribute a little more on the subject, calling it an “exploration of political tone and societal turmoil at the turn of the 20th century,” as political activism and the anarchist movement began to unfold in Europe. And clearly there is a lot going on here, as, aside from the horrific central scene, other figures lie seemingly dead in the background and a series of battle-scarred and bloody (Anarchiste?) masks are skewered on a sword on the right, devolving into a skull at the bottom. Is this a comment on political extremes and the dehumanization that inevitably follows? Wow, sounds familiar.

It’s unsettling how arresting and even beautiful the composition is, though, with the dark, stylized trees in the background contrasting with the lettering, and the decorative floral panel framing the masks. Even when it’s grim, Art Nouveau is still extremely seductive.

The poster is estimated at €3,000 - €5,000, or $3,300 - $5,400 USD.

This jet mourning parure dates to the late 18th to early 19th century. A parure is a set of various pieces of matching jewelry, and this one contains a necklace with three detachable pendants, a set of earrings, a brooch, a “jewel” (which, after peering at the photo of the back, I think may be a brooch or clip that has lost its pin), and two black velvet bracelets embellished with jet rosettes. The set isn’t all that pretty in the photographs, but it was probably gorgeous and glittery in low light.

Jet is often associated with mourning because of its extensive use in the 19th century. After Prince Albert’s death in 1861, Queen Victoria went into deep mourning and pulled England along with her, demanding that only jet jewelry be worn at court. So while everybody still dressed up, they had to do it all in black (or, in later stages, gray or purple). Many strict rules on mourning etiquette and fashion evolved in England, Europe and the US — this 1857 edition of Godey’s Magazine observes that “In Philadelphia, severity and newness carry the day; in New York, many do not scruple to mingle jets and bugles, crape flowers and feathers, even in what they call deep mourning.” Bugle beads and feathers in mourning!? With these spartan Quaker roots??? Philadelphians would NEVER.

Anyway, jet — which is actually fossilized wood from the Jurassic period — evolved into a popular option for mourning jewelry because it was both very lightweight and very black in color, and much of it was sourced in Whitby, England (of Dracula fame). It was also often faked, with pretenders including vulcanite (vulcanized rubber invented by Charles Goodyear), French jet (black glass), gutta percha (another form of rubber sourced from the tropics), horn, onyx and even — in the early 1900s — bakelite.

It’s important to note that not all jet jewelry was mourning-related, though — black was a stylish color in the late 1800s, and many jet pieces were prized simply for their look.

This parure, which was formerly the property of the Ducal House of Bavaria, is included in the Sotheby’s Royal & Noble Jewels auction in Geneva on November 13. It’s estimated at 500 - 900 CHF (Swiss francs), or $578 - $1,000 USD.

Speaking of that Royal and Noble auction, I also have to mention the sale’s showstopper: an extraordinary 18th century jewel that is estimated to fetch between $1.8 million and $2.5 million.

The piece — which is set with nearly 500 diamonds weighing a total of approximately 300 carats (!!) — is referred to as a négligé, and is basically an open-ended rope consisting of three rows of collet-set old cushion-shaped and circular-cut diamonds, with each end capped by a hefty diamond tassel. It’s extremely flexible — it “courses through one’s hand like running water,” to quote a Sotheby’s chairman — and can be worn loose around the neck or draped over itself like a scarf.

It’s extraordinary that this piece (with SO MANY DIAMONDS) has made it this far without being broken up. And the diamonds themselves are also extraordinary: Sotheby’s notes that diamonds weren’t widespread until their discovery in South Africa in 1867, so the only diamonds available in the 18^th century came from the fabled Golconda mines in India, which produced some of the purest and finest diamonds in history. They were so rare and so expensive that only royalty and the highest echelons of society could afford them.

The exact origins of the jewel aren’t known, although there is some titillating speculation in the lot notes suggesting that the tassels came from Marie Antoinette’s infamous diamond necklace. We do know that it resided for generations in the collection of the British aristocratic Paget family, and probably first was acquired around the time of Henry Paget (1768-1854), the first Marquess of Angelsey. Because it was part of the family estate, it luckily avoided being sold off during the bankruptcy of the 5th Marquess of Anglesey — who my longtime readers may remember as “The Dancing Marquess,” a.k.a. that guy with the emerald ping-pong jacket.

The piece later witnessed two coronations: the 6th Marchioness, Marjorie Paget, wore it to the coronation of King George IV in 1937, and the 7th, Shirley Paget, wore it draped like a scarf to the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II in 1953.

The Pagets parted ways with the piece sometime in the 1960s. It later resurfaced in a 1976 Bicentennial exhibition at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, and then moved on to “an important Asian private collection” in the 1970s, where it has remained until today.

Ok that’s it. Solidarity, my friends, and Happy Halloween. M x

Well guys, I think I found my Grail. Decades ago, nerdy little art history major me wandered down a side path that led to antique jewelry, and there I proceeded to fall in love with both the designs and the quest for ancient knowledge that fueled the mid-19th century archaeological revival. And what do we have here? It’s the Alma-Tadema Armlet, the actual armlet commissioned by Victorian painter Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema as a gift for his wife, Laura — who he later depicted wearing the armlet in two of his best-known paintings. (It’s also shown discarded in the background of a third.)

I need it like air.

The golden armlet — which is designed to wrap four times around the arm — takes the form of a double-headed engraved snake, with each snake head flanked by stylized horses’ heads. The snakes have diamond eyes, while the horse’s eyes are alternately set with turquoise, ruby, sapphire and emerald.

It’s being sold by the London antique jewelry firm Wartski, and in their write-up of the piece, they touch on Sir Lawrence’s longtime focus on classical themes in his paintings. He initially centered on Greek and Egyptian motifs, but he began to add super decadent Roman Empire themes to his work following two trips to Italy in the 1860s, where he was inspired and fascinated by the excavations being carried out at Pompeii and other sites. This armlet directly shows that inspiration, as Wartski calls attention to this similar 4th century BC armlet, unearthed in a tomb at the Greek settlement of Roccagloriosa, Italy. (The piece still resides in the Museo Civico Archeologico of Roccagloriosa; I don’t think they have a website, so my thanks to the person who helpfully posted a photo of it on TripAdvisor.)

Sir Lawrence was just one of many people inspired by the excavations, and archaeological revival pieces were all the rage in Victorian London as various jewelers — led by the Castellani family, who I’ve covered before — created their own versions of the ancient designs. So it’s interesting that, instead of choosing one of the jewelers known for the archaeological style, Sir Lawrence chose to give this commission to J.S. and A.B. Wyon, a firm of metal engravers. (Pretty good metal engravers, though, since they were the “chief engravers of Her Majesty’s Seals.”) And he did want the piece inscribed: he had his wife’s name, Laura Theresa Alma Tadema, engraved in Greek script along the outside of the armlet, as well as scaling added to the body of the snake.

Now, on to the paintings!

The armlet first appeared in Sir Lawrence’s The Sculpture Gallery from 1874. The painting depicts a group of people viewing artwork in an ancient gallery or studio, and the observers are actually members of the artist’s own family. Laura, wearing the armlet, stands at the back of the room alongside the artist’s two small daughters. (The girls were from a previous marriage; Sir Lawrence was widowed before he married Laura.) The artist himself — in a wonderful gesture familiar to parents everywhere — sits in front of them to the left, gently extending his arm to keep the enthralled girls from getting too close to the display. Laura’s sister and brother complete the group in the foreground.

Many of the artworks shown in the painting are also based on real, recognizable pieces from such places as the Vatican Museums and the Capitoline Museum in Rome.

The armlet also appears in 1888’s famous The Roses of Heliogabulus, which depicts the story of Heliogabalus, a decadent Emperor of Rome who smothered his guests by upending a canopy full of rose petals during a banquet. You can see Laura on the left, wearing the armlet as she’s overwhelmed by petals.

Wartski says the story (which came from the Historia Augusta and was probably made up), originally identified the petals as a mix of various flowers, but Sir Lawrence switched it to roses. Because he couldn’t get them off-season in London, “he is reputed to have had rose petals sent from the South of France each week during the four months it took to paint it.” 

I don’t have space for a photo, but the armlet also appears in the background of The Frigidarium from 1890. Laura again features in the painting, but this time the armlet is sitting on a shelf behind her.

So of course Wartski doesn’t provide a price for the armlet, because such information isn’t for the likes of us gawping povvos. They showed the piece recently at a couple of posh art fairs, and their director Kieran McCarthy said they were hoping it would be bought by Spanish billionaire Juan Antonio Pérez Simón, the man who owns The Roses of Heliogabulus, “so someone could wear it sitting in front of the painting.”

This ring features a 3rd century AD Roman agate with unusual opaque and transparent striations of color that the engraver used to inspire his composition. Taking advantage of the largely transparent lower half of the stone, he incised the figure of a man fishing, with half of his body appearing to wade through water. The dealer, London’s Rowan and Rowan, have identified the man as the Roman god Mercury due to his petasos, or wide-brimmed hat.

The gold setting is of a later date and the ring itself is sold, sadly, but I’m grateful that they’ve kept the piece online so we can marvel at it. It’s a wonderful thing and I’ve never seen anything like it.

The silver-capped object above is called a lodestone — a special type of a naturally magnetized mineral called magnetite that exhibits north-south polarity. Though it’s been used and studied for centuries, scientists still aren’t totally sure why lodestone is so different from regular magnetite, but the theory is that it was struck by lightning, which created such a strong magnetic field that it permanently magnetized the mineral.

The use of lodestones goes back as far as the 4th century BC — when the Chinese used them to try to predict the future — and over the centuries they were discovered to be valuable navigational aids. Because they don’t lose their magnetism, lodestones were brought along on voyages to re-magnetize iron compass needles, which gradually lost their strength and usefulness over time. This process was called “refreshing the needle,” and it was practiced up until around 1760, when a permanently magnetic needle was created.

Lodestones also were believed to have healing properties, and this one (technically it’s a 1929 copy of the circa 1702-1714 original) was supposedly used by England’s Queen Anne to heal her subjects. The piece is in the always fascinating Sir Henry Wellcome's Museum Collection in London’s Science Museum, and here’s their explanation:

Anne objected to touching her subjects directly and instead used the stone. It was believed that the monarch’s power could heal tuberculosis of the skin known as the ‘King’s Evil’ or scrofula. The monarch’s power could be transferred to objects such as lodestones or touchpieces. The lodestone was reputedly given to John Rooper, one of Queen Anne's staff (deputy Cofferer), and was passed down three generations of his family before being sold at auction. The silver casing was added later to protect the family heirloom.

Scrofula! Now there’s an illness you don’t hear much about these days. Yay antibiotics.

Anyway, the lodestone that prompted this whole entry dates to around 1700 and is capped at top and bottom with scalloped silver. It’s included in the Bonhams London online Instruments of Science and Technology auction ending tomorrow, and it carries an estimate of £500 - £800, or US $650 - US $1,000.

Totally unrelated but I WILL SURELY PERISH if I don’t pass along this discovery: While rooting through the Wellcome Collection in search of lodestones, I stumbled across this highly decorated ca. 1601-1700 Spanish earthenware jug that depicts two men, with one of them…um, bending over, and the inscription: “I am Don Joaquin Hernandez's jar. Through intense devotion to my constitution I find myself on this occasion shamefully syringed at the hands of a serf.”

This absolutely gorgeous French antique cigarette case and match safe set is made of carved agate with applied Wedgwood plaques and further embellishments of rose-cut diamonds and blue enamel. The lot notes also mention that it’s “accompanied by a fitted Cartier pouch,” so that’s an intriguing yet noncommittal bit of info. The piece is included in tomorrow’s Freeman’s | Hindman Important Jewelry live auction in Chicago, and it’s estimated at $2,000 - $3,000.

Circa 1900, this finely-woven bicolored mesh purse features a playing-card motif, with applied charms of amethyst, garnet, or chrysoberyl surrounded by rose-cut diamonds. The bag’s frame is set with trefoils of circular-cut rubies and sapphires interspersed with brilliant-cut diamonds. It’s in the Bonhams London Knightsbridge Jewels auction on September 18th and is estimated at £8,000 - £12,000 (US$10,000 - US$16,000).

LOOK at that opal.

I feature more Tiffany here than I really would prefer, but damned if they aren’t always showing up with spectacular pieces. This circa 1910s opal, diamond, and enamel necklace is by Louis Comfort Tiffany for Tiffany & Co., and features a large pear-shaped opal and a smaller oval opal set in a foliate-motif frame of yellow gold, with lovely gradations of colored enamel that blend with the colors of the stones.

The piece is included in the Rago and Toomey & Co. Jewelry: Antique to Art Deco auction on September 17th in Chicago, and it’s estimated at $15,000–20,000.

It’s another example of Tiffany and Co.’s long history — led by their chief gemologist George Frederick Kunz (1856–1932) — of sourcing exceptional gemstones for their creations.

In honor of the glorious and much-yearned-for approach of autumn, here is a limited edition 2023 yellow and black monogram leather pumpkin bag by Yayoi Kusama for Louis Vuitton. It’s in the Christie’s New York Handbags Online: The September Edition online sale closing on September 18, and it’s estimated at $10,000 - $15,000. This is a familiar and favorite subject for Kusama, who has said “Pumpkins have been a great comfort to me since my childhood. They speak to me of the joy of living. They are humble and amusing at the same time, and I have and always will celebrate them in my art.”

It’s a fun piece, but the whole high-end bag thing baffles me. There’s a 2023 crocodile Kelly bag in that sale that already has a bid of $100,000. Christ on a bike.

Ok, time to bring this to a close, although there is one last thing that I decided not to picture. I’ll mention it anyway because somebody might be interested: Jackie Kennedy Onassis’s two-piece Valentino wedding dress is being offered in the online Classic Luxury Style Icons sale that’s running at Bonhams Los Angeles from September 16th through the 26th. Onassis wore the dress for her wedding to Aristotle Onassis on October 20, 1968 in Skorpios, Greece, and it’s from the “Sfilata Bianca” collection shown by Valentino in Rome in 1968. It pairs a sleeveless cream silk crepe pleated dress with a chiffon and lace overlay shell that buttons on the back, and to be honest it’s pretty blah? Of its time, I guess.

You can see a few different views of the dress (and the wedding) in this article from WWD. It’s estimated to sell for $8,000 - $12,000.

Anyway, I hope you’re all well and happy. Enjoy the rest of your week and watch out for serfs.

Love, M x

So, anybody want Tom Petty’s 1965 Ford Mustang? It’s up for sale today in the Bonhams Cars Quail Auction in Carmel, CA.

I’m not a huge vintage car person and I’m certainly not a Mustang person (no matter how many times I intone “Ford Mustang, bang” in my head), but man, that is a pretty car. Petty bought it in 2002 and the lot notes state it’s being sold by his wife, so I guess she got it in the acrimonious estate battle with Petty’s daughters from his first marriage.

The car is fully restored and in “excellent running order,” and it’s estimated to sell for $25,000 - $35,000.

Did you know there are natural pearls from Scotland? (You might if you watched Outlander, which I did not.) That beauty above is the Abernethy Pearl, the largest Scottish natural freshwater pearl found in living history. It’s surpassed in size only by the Kellie Pearl, which is set in Britain’s oldest surviving crown, the ca. 1540 Crown of Scotland. (For more on the history of the crown, don’t miss this excellent post from historian Lauren Kiehna, a.k.a. the Court Jeweller.)

The pearl is affectionately known as “Little Willie,” and it was discovered in 1967 in the River Tay by Scottish pearl diver William (Bill) Abernethy. It’s being offered for sale next Wednesday in Edinburgh by Scotland’s oldest auction house, Lyon & Turnbull, in their live auction The Cairncross Collection featuring The Abernethy Pearl.

Bill Abernethy never disclosed the exact location where he found the pearl, fearing pearl hunters would wreak havoc on the river. His dad and uncle had taught him how to fish for a pearl, and he spent his lifetime doing it, developing an almost sixth sense for which mussels would contain pearls. His 2021 obituary — he lived to the age of 96 — is a delight, and in it his friend and former diving colleague Doug Allen says Bill could tell by the shape of their shells exactly which mussels would yield a pearl, so he only needed to harvest a tiny amount, leaving the rest alone.

Scottish river pearls occur naturally in the freshwater pearl mussel Margaritifera margaritifera, and according to the lot essay, it’s thought that only one in every five thousand mussels contains a pearl. They form the same way as any other natural pearl: an intruding grain of sand/dirt/whatever enters the mussel, which then secretes layer after layer of nacre (mother-of-pearl) around the irritant, eventually forming a pearl. Those layers are what give a pearl its luster, which refers to both the reflective surface of the pearl and the subtle glow created by light entering the layers of nacre and reflecting back at the viewer.

Lyon & Turnbull say the Abernethy Pearl may have taken more than 80 years to reach its size of 43.6 grains, and the renowned pearl house Mastoloni compares the quality of its luster to that of Japanese Akoya pearls, which are the best of the best when it comes to luster. They also shout out its perfectly spherical shape, which is rare among natural freshwater pearls.

When asked about finding the Abernethy pearl, the obituary notes that Bill said “he knew there was going to be a pearl inside but it was twice the size he expected. He wrapped it in a dock leaf to prevent it being scratched and held onto it for a while before taking it to the jewellers who were stunned at his find.”

The pearl is estimated to sell for £10,000 - £15,000 ($13,000 - $19,000).

A note about the auction itself: The items being sold come from the collection of Cairncross of Perth, a renowned 154-year-old Scottish jewelry store that sadly closed last year. Scottish freshwater pearl mussels are an endangered species thanks to both poaching and climate change, and this article from the BBC notes that pearl fishing, buying and selling have been banned by the Scottish government since 1998. Cairncross was previously the only jeweler licensed to sell Scottish freshwater pearls (specifically only pearls harvested pre-1998), but it looks like T. Paterson Jewellers, also of Perth, currently has a license to sell. No matter what, this auction is one of the few legit opportunities available to purchase Scottish pearl jewelry.

This sparkly gilt metal, paste stone and pearl crown was designed for French stage actress Sarah Bernhardt’s performance of Medea in 1898. I first wrote about Bernhardt back in 2020, prompted by a killer inkwell she designed as a self-portrait of herself as a Chimera. The woman was phenomenally extra — we’ve all heard the tale of her sleeping in a coffin — but very calculatedly so, embracing all forms of promotion and new technology to create a dramatic public persona that served her career as an actress and artist.

She also basically made the career of the Czech artist Alphonse Mucha. The story goes that she wanted a poster produced quickly to promote an extension of her run in the play Gismonda, but as it was Christmastime, most of the artists in her publishing house were home for the holidays — except for Mucha, who happened to be in the building checking proofs. His boss asked him to quickly create a larger than life poster of the actress, and this is what he made. Bernhardt loved it, promptly buying 4000 copies and signing Mucha to a six-year contract.

Mucha created a poster for Medea a few years later in 1898, and it depicts Bernhardt in a different, more ostentatious crown that’s definitely better suited for a poster than the one above. I’m also compelled to include this other Medea portrait of Bernhardt that Mucha created a little earlier, in 1893:

Again, not the same crown because it’s earlier, but who cares. She’s awesome. The piece, which is a work on paper in pencil, watercolor & bodycolor (gouache) titled “Project for Sarah Bernhardt in ‘Médée,’” supposedly sold at Sotheby’s London in March 1996. I couldn’t find it on their site, but whoever’s uploading past auctions probably hasn’t gotten to it yet.

Anyway, the crown above has an adjustable strap and center brace and is stamped “L. Lagarde/Paris.” The provenance notes that the piece was bought directly from Bernhardt’s estate and has been passed down in a single collection since then. It’s included in The Tastemaker, a live auction at Freeman's | Hindman in Philadelphia also on August 21; estimate is $3,000 - $5,000.

This 18k gold, peridot and smoky quartz ring caught my eye in the Bonhams Sydney Jewels | Spring Edit online auction ending August 23. The foresty pine tree motif jumped out at me as I sit here yearning for lovely crispy fall weather, and the designer, Mousson, sounded familiar. But when I went to investigate, I realized I didn’t know them at all. It seems they’re Russian but based in Thailand, and they enthusiastically embrace enamel, which is always going to get my attention. I particularly love this 18k yellow gold bangle bracelet with a plain brushed surface and a patterned enamel interior — a secret known only to the wearer.

Speaking of bangles — this bracelet was designed by renowned architect Frank Gehry for Tiffany & Co. I believe it’s part of a collection they released in 2006, because it has the same lines and planes of the other pieces, but I’ve never seen one in this material. Probably because it was a limited edition, but mostly because it’s porcelain. “Porcelain” and “bangle” are both perfectly fine things but put them together and disaster is sure to strike. Or maybe he used some kind of super-strong porcelain, if that even exists? I don’t know. Gehry’s collection also contained similar pieces made of reinforced concrete, so my man Frank was definitely pushing Tiffany’s limits. I don’t think I’ve seen any of the concrete ones come up on the secondary market, either.

So anyway, the bangle is made of white porcelain with a blue and gray varnish that was hand-painted by Gehry himself, as is noted in the signature on the interior of the piece. It’s also included in that Sydney Jewels auction and is estimated at AU$2,000 - AU$4,000, or $1,300 - $2,600 in US dollars.

I’m very sorry to say that Jesse Monongye (or Monongya), the renowned Navajo/Hopi jeweler, passed away last week at the age of 71. Jesse had a fascinating life story: He was adopted and brought up in New Mexico, where he was recruited by the Marines and sent to serve in Vietnam. When he returned, a Navajo FBI agent helped him find his biological father, who turned out to be the famous Hopi silversmith Preston Monongye.

Jesse watched his father work, but he had no interest in becoming a jeweler himself until one night, when he said his mother came to him in a dream:

I had a dream that my mother found me — I never knew my mother either — but in my dream she found me and told me that I would become a famous jeweler. It was like a lightning bolt hit me. And I looked at my dad’s work again, and it seemed like I knew what I was doing already, right off the bat. So I worked with him a while, and then I started entering competitions, and I won…beat my father and some of the other big-name guys. So that's how it started.

Jesse was renowned for his inlay work, which often depicted the night sky. The gold cuff bracelet above, called “A Day in the Life of Monument Valley,” is an excellent example of his skill in using materials like coral, turquoise, lapis lazuli, Acoma jet and gold-lip pearl oyster to represent the landscape and cosmos. The center of the bracelet is set with a large opal in a raised gold bezel.

The piece is included in the Bonhams Skinner Modern Native American Art and Jewelry online auction running from October 12-23. (This is the only piece they’ve posted so far.) The estimate is $12,000 - $18,000, but I’m sure the news of his death will have an effect on the sale price.

The September 10th Pushing Boundaries: Ingenuity from the Paul G. Allen Collection auction at Christie’s New York has an interesting mix of science, history and tech-related items, including Einstein’s 1939 letter to FDR, warning him of the German nuclear threat (estimate: $4 - $6 million), an Enigma machine and an Atari Pong home console.

I’m obsessed with that thing pictured above, though. It’s a ca. 18671 Malling-Hansen Writing Ball — the world’s first commercially produced typewriter — and it was invented in 1865 by Hans Rasmus Malling-Hansen, a Danish pastor and principal of the Royal Institute for the Deaf in Copenhagen. According to Christie’s, he “developed the Writing Ball with the primary aim of improving the efficiency and speed of written communication specifically targeted at those with disabilities.”

Malling-Hansen designed the writing ball with vowels on one side and consonants on the other, in a way that deliberately minimized finger movement to avoid typing fatigue. Apparently it worked, “reportedly enabling typists to reach speeds of up to 800 characters per minute,” according to the lot notes. (Side note: German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche owned one of these and hated it, but it’s believed that the one he had was damaged in transit and the mechanic he hired to fix it only made it worse.) I can’t find any video of one actually working, but there is an old CAD illustration on YouTube.

Sadly, the writing ball didn’t catch on, despite being a supremely efficient machine. Manufacturing was complicated and expensive, so Malling-Hansen was only able to produce around 180 of them before he sadly passed away at age 55, and all production stopped. By then it was already being surpassed by typewriters using the QWERTY keyboard layout we still use today.

The piece is estimated at $50,000 – $80,000.

Also, there’s a phenomenal collection of fairground art coming up for sale in early September at Bonhams London. It’s worth rooting through to see all the beautiful carousel animals and vintage games and whatnot, but click on this particular link at your own peril, because it’s the most horrifying clown sign I’ve ever seen. “FUN!”

Have a good weekend, everybody!

Love, M xx

So, The Exceptional Sale featured an interesting array of stuff, including a bridesmaid’s dress from the 1947 wedding of then-Princess Elizabeth, Pelé’s FIFA World Cup winner’s medal and an exceptional Breguet pocket watch that cost a staggering 3000 (!!!) francs in 1810.

It’s the piece above that triggered my grabby hands, though. Circa 1770, this heavily jeweled nécessaire was made by British jeweler and watchmaker James Cox, probably for the Chinese export market. The box features four winged dolphin feet and a matching handle, with musical trophies and flower sprays embellished with colorful paste stones and applied onto agate panels.

Cox was renowned for creating these elaborate trinkets — known in their time as “toys” or, in China, “sing-songs” — and claimed he used “eight hundred to one thousand workmen” to manufacture all the individual parts.

He went bankrupt twice in his career, but in between those bouts of misfortune his business was booming:

His output consisted of musical clocks, miniature cabinets or bureaux made of agate with gold cage-work decorated with animals, birds, pagodas, and Chinese figures, snuff-boxes, watch-cases and automata. … Cox was exporting £750,000 worth of goods between 1766 and 1772 which must have been the majority of his production, to adorn the palaces of the Chinese Emperor and Indian Maharajas as well as the Tsar of Russia and the Ottoman Kings.

Pieces like this nécessaire were often created and sold in pairs, and we actually know where the match to this one resides: in the Royal Collection Trust (SHOCKING). Theirs is marked No. 1, and this one is marked No. 2.

But really, the reason I love this thing (aside from the dolphin feet) is LOOK AT ALL THIS STUFF:

Inside the box are five additional rock crystal boxes with ornate bejeweled lids and a small tray that holds gilt-steel manicure tools. BUT THAT’S NOT ALL: There’s a second concealed lid, and that one opens to reveal a watch with a white enamel dial. The piece is actually an automaton: around the dial is a ring of jeweled discs that rotate when the piece is triggered.

If you click through to the lot, the eighth image is a video that briefly shows the spinning discs in action.

The piece was estimated at £120,000 – £180,000 ($152,000 - $228,000) and sold for £214,200, or $272,000.

The workmanship of the Chinese export clocks and trinkets like the nécessaire above inspired the local craftsmen in China — particularly in the port city of Guangzhou — to create their own masterpieces. Using the British clocks as a template, the Chinese artisans added their own flourishes, including bright enamels, rotating Catherine wheels and framed automaton scenes like the one in the bottom section of the Imperial Chinese table clock above, which is attributed to the Guangzhou Workshops of the Quanlong Period (1736-1795).

The framed automaton in the base of the clock features a “tribute bearers” scene that depicts tiny figures leading gift-laden elephants and donkeys around the interior of the case, and the clock itself was made as a “tribute” for the Chinese Imperial Court. In addition to the moving figures, the top tier features enameled blue and gilt cones set among stylized flowerheads with a central section featuring eight additional discs, all of which rotate individually. Catherine wheels spin at each of the top four corners of the piece, while the middle section features little whirligig trees of dangling paste gems.

You can see (and hear) a video of the piece in action in the lot images. Also, some of you may remember that I featured another clock from this period back in 2021. That one was English, and ingeniously used tiny rotating rods of glass to simulate jets of water emerging from a fountain. It’s a delight.

Anyway, the Guangzhou tribute clock was also included in The Exceptional Sale, with an estimate of £500,000 – £800,000 ($632,000 - $1,011,000). It sold for £756,000, or $959,000.

This skeleton archer is made of carved and stained limewood and dates to the late 17th or early 18th century. He’s probably Bavarian, and he’s an example of a trend in Southern Germany that actually started in the early 16th century: the production of carved wooden skeleton figures that personify death. We’ve talked about memento mori (“remember you must die”) items here in the past, and these skeletons, known as “Tödlein” or “little deaths,” were part of that tradition. Bonhams sums it up:

Representations of the theme of the “memento mori”, which were used as aide-mémoires to remind the onlooker of the fragility of life, first became popular during the Renaissance, particularly in Northern Europe and especially in Germany. Acting as a moral compass against sin and its resultant decay, and to remind the viewer of the afterlife, the figures were equally valued as curiosities and mirrored the Renaissance interest in the anatomy of the human body as well as the grotesque and macabre.

Tödlein were usually displayed in cabinets of curiosities, which is why I assume a delicate wooden carving like this has survived to the present day. A similar but earlier sculpture resides in the Kunst und Wunderkammer (Chamber of Art and Curiosities) at Ambras Castle in Innsbruck, and both skeletons hold a bow and arrows, one of the attributes usually associated with death (along with a scythe or an hourglass).

I initially thought he was wearing tattered clothing, but after paging through the additional photos I came to the horrifying realization that that’s his SKIN. From the side you can see HIS FACE IS SLIDING OFF THE BACK OF HIS SKULL. Holy mother of god, Germany.

The piece is included in the Fine Decorative Arts auction at Bonhams London on July 5th. It’s estimated at £20,000 - £30,000, or $25,000 - $38,000.

Circa 1710, this 2¾-inch pocket globe is literally the third earliest English pocket globe ever made.

Created by London globe makers Charles Price and John Senex, the globe features meticulous cartographic detail as well as a quotation from the Aeneid circling the North Pole that states “Quo non Mortalia pectora cogit Auri sacra fames,” or “To what extremes will you not drive the hearts of men, accurst hunger for gold!” The quote refers to the quest for the Northwest Passage through the Arctic, and more specifically English sailor and privateer Martin Frobisher’s 16th century discovery of “gold ore” that turned out to be iron pyrite, which brought us the term “fool’s gold.” (“The gold road’s sure a long road…”)

If you look closely, you’ll see a tiny dotted line that tracks the path of Francis Drake in his 1577-1580 voyage around the world. Christie’s is particularly charmed by the words “Drake returns” engraved around the Cape of Good Hope. They’re the only two words printed upside-down on the globe, and Christie’s rather romantically notes that “the famed English explorer beheld the world upside down, just as his admirers reading his name on the pocket globe must do.”

The Price and Senex partnership only lasted around four or five years, and they created this pocket globe sometime around 1710, in the final year of their partnership. Price went on to an unstable career and sadly wound up in debtor’s prison, dying in 1933. Senex continued on successfully, however, and in 1731, he released a new 2¾-inch pocket globe, and his globes were still in production as late as 1793.

According to Christie’s, this particular pocket globe has only two English precedents:

Joseph Moxon’s (1627-1691) pocket globes, made in London in the 1670s; and Philip Lea’s (fl. 1683-1700) exceedingly rare pocket globe. The National Maritime Museum in Greenwich holds one of Lea’s globes (ZBA4350); his name on the cartouche (“Londini Sumptibus Phillip Lea”) confirms that the globe dates from before his death in 1700, and so before the collaboration between Charles Price and John Senex in 1706-1710.

The interior of the globe’s fishskin-covered case focuses on the celestial, with depictions of the houses of the Zodiac and numerous constellations as well as mythical beasts and other figures.

The piece is included in the July 10th Valuable Books and Manuscripts live auction at Christie’s London, and carries an estimate of GBP 20,000 – GBP 30,000 ($25,000 - $38,000).

Circa 1801, this navette-shaped Acts of Union ring features a Union Flag in red, white and blue guilloche enamel with a seed pearl border set in yellow gold. It’s included in Day Two of the Wooley & Wallis Fine Jewellery auction on July 11th. The lot notes give us a quick history lesson regarding the Acts of Union, which I, an ignorant Yank, am grateful for:

The Acts of Union were passed on 2 July 1800 and 1 August 1800 and came into force on 1 January 1801. They joined Ireland to the United Kingdom creating a united parliament. Eight articles which had been previously agreed by the British and Irish parliaments were ratified and a new flag for the United Kingdom emerged from this new Union, known as the Union Jack. It is likely that this ring is one of the earliest depictions of the Union Flag in jewellery. Estimate: £3,000 - £5,000

Warning: This is one of those *THAT NEEDS TO BE IN A MUSEUM* moments that will fry your brain.

So, back in 2022, a commercial paleontologist called Jason Cooper stumbled upon an exposed femur while out walking on his Moffatt County, Colorado property. The femur turned out to be attached to a complete skeleton of a Late Jurassic period Stegosaurus.

Apparently Cooper immediately called Sotheby’s, because according to them, this is:

the first instance of an auction house working to bring a dinosaur specimen to market, starting from the day of its discovery. Sotheby’s collaborated closely with the owner to document the entire process, from discovery and excavation to restoration, preparation, and mounting, ensuring that the documentation and sale of the specimen is handled with the highest standards and transparency.

They named the stegosaurus “Apex,” and it’s 11 feet tall and 27 feet long, making it twice the size of Sophie, the stegosaurus on display at London’s Natural History Museum.

Sotheby’s is estimating Apex to sell for $4-6 million, which leaves museums shit out of luck. (The Natural History Museum was only able to purchase Sophie because a hedge fund manager paid for most it.)

The New York Times spoke with various paleontologists about the Apex auction and nobody’s happy: “If the specimen is as scientifically important as it’s purported, then they’re going about it entirely the wrong way,” said Stuart Sumida, vice president of the Society of Vertebrate Paleontology. Sumida said that fossils that have already been mounted and reconstructed are harder to study, as paleontologists have to figure out what is real and what is a reconstructed cast.

Cooper and Sotheby’s insist that the reconstruction of Apex was meticulously documented in an effort to set an example of transparency, but that doesn’t solve the matter of price. Because even if parts of a fossil are casts, that doesn’t seem to matter to private collectors. Back in 2022, Christie’s sold a Deinonychus skeleton for $12.4 million — doubling the $4-6 million estimate — even though the skeleton itself was only half-real.

It’s a sad and unsustainable situation, and it’s infuriating that, yet again, we’re stuck hoping for a breadcrumb from a billionaire.

The auction will take place on July 17th in New York.

Man, I hate to end on a bummer, sorry about that. Let me see — can I interest you in 15,000 newly digitized photos from the Vogue archives? This is the rabbit hole of rabbit holes. Enjoy!

Happy 4th to the Americans and Happy Boot Rishi Out the Door Day to the Brits. I’m off until Monday and will be shutting off all devices and indulging in my favorite pastime: reading excessively long and farfetched paperbacks about the Rosicrucians or whatever.

Love you guys and thanks as always for reading this nonsense! M xx

The attack occurred the week before the Christie’s blockbuster spring art sales and the company went forward with them as planned, with seemingly little blowback from customers, as their sales numbers fell within estimates. But The New York Times reported:

Behind the scenes, two auction house employees, who asked not to be identified because they were not authorized to speak publicly, described a state of panic in which top leaders remained quiet about the details of the security breach and have not addressed questions from employees about whether the hackers have accessed confidential information about clients and are holding it for ransom.

Well, now we know. On Monday, the ransomware organization RansomHub took responsibility for the hack in a post on the dark web, stating: “While utilizing access to Christies network we were able to gain access to their customers sensitive personal information … for at least 500,000 of their private clients from around the world.” They claim to have harvested data including names, birth dates, “and much more.” Apparently Christie’s didn’t pay the ransom, because they went on to say:

“We attempted to come to a reasonable solution with them but they ceased communication midway through. It is clear that if this information is posted they will incur heavy fines from GDPR as well as ruining their reputation with their clients and don’t care about their privacy.”

RansomHub has set a countdown timer for releasing the data; it will reach zero by the end of the month.

Also….art world Instagrammer Jerry Gogosian (a.k.a. Hilde Lynn Helphenstein) has been following this story closely and she says she was getting dm’s from Christie’s customers WEEKS before the announced hack. It seems people were trying to log into their accounts and being redirected to other accounts, where they could see the financial info, location and purchase history of complete strangers.

Soooooooo, Yikes McGikes. Stay tuned.

Today’s Fine Jewels auction at Sotheby’s London includes a fantastic collection of late 20th-century British art jewelry, with a number of pieces by 1960s modernist jewelers Andrew Grima and Gilian Packard (among others). Packard was particularly known for using geodes in her designs, and the tourmaline and zircon bib necklace above is one of hers. It’s from 1970, and features tourmaline crystals set amid a web of polished and textured gold links in geometric shapes echoing those of the crystals. Circular-cut blue zircons are scattered throughout. (Estimate 7,000 - 10,000 GBP, or $9,000 - $13,000 USD.)

Packard was also the first woman to become a Freeman of the Worshipful Company of Goldsmiths, one of the Great Twelve Livery Companies of London. These livery companies originated as medieval guilds, and the Goldsmiths’ Company received its royal charter in 1327 and is one of the few livery companies still practicing its original trade today (others, like the Grocers1, Skinners, etc., have since turned to philanthropy and education). In addition to training and supporting its 1800+ members, the Goldsmiths’ Company also runs the London Assay Office, which tests and hallmarks precious metals, and — in a tradition dating back to 1282 — examines a selection of each year’s newly minted British coinage in a ceremony called the Trial of the Pyx.

The company is based in Goldsmiths’ Hall in the City of London and the building is usually closed to the public except for occasional open days and the yearly Goldsmiths’ Fair, a two-week exhibition and sale that begins this year on September 24th. The building is absolutely GORGEOUS, so if you can ever get in there, I highly recommend it. (Also just fyi I met Princess Michael of Kent there one year and she was a snot.)

There are a LOT of great pieces in that Fine Jewels sale, and I also loved this mid-19th century snake necklace, with a body composed of turquoise-studded articulated links and a head set with rose-cut diamonds and cabochon garnet eyes. It’s one of those seductively tactile pieces; I would love to feel the weight of it in my hand. (Estimate 6,000 - 8,000 GBP, or $7,600 - $10,200 USD.)

There’s also lots of fun stuff in the Christie’s Jewels Online: The London Edit sale closing on June 5th, including this circa 1890 rose-cut diamond and ruby stag beetle that was originally a brooch. (Estimate 2,600 - 3,500 GBP, or $3,300 - $4,400 USD.) They also have a circa 1940 Mosheh Oved soaring bird ring that’s similar to the one of his sketches in the Ben Uri Collection. (Estimate 3,000 - 4,000 GBP, or $3,800 - $5,000 USD.)

Sometimes I get all moony over a piece of jewelry, and it’s usually because it involves a big ol’ cabochon stone like that glorious pool of aquamarine above. The stone weighs approximately 152.70 carats and is described in the lot notes as a “Santa-Maria type” aqua, which is a term that namechecks the Santa Maria de Itabira mine in Brazil but is used more in the trade to signal its darker, highly saturated color.

The aqua is bezel-set within a carved rock crystal frame that’s embellished with delicate diamond and blue tourmaline detailing. Beneath the frame sits a square-cut blue tourmaline that suspends an aquamarine bead tassel topped with black opal and rose-cut diamond rondelles. The full necklace is 27 inches long, and the diamond fancy-link chain features additional strands of aquamarine beads.

The piece was part of Cartier’s 2016 “Cartier Magicien” collection and is included in the Bonhams New York Jewels auction on June 6th. Estimate: $80,000 - $120,000.

Circa 1929, this Van Cleef & Arpels diamond “Tie” necklace is a rare and stunning piece — certainly worthy of the Magnificent Jewels auction at Sotheby’s New York on June 7th.

The lot notes describe how, from the mid-1920s to the early 1930s, VC&A designed several elaborate “tie-necklaces” that would complement the long and lean bias-cut gowns of the day. The necklaces featured a long pendant or tassel and could be worn both traditionally or draped down the wearer’s back or shoulder. In fact, those two tassel motifs on the necklace above rotate slightly, so they can drape down sideways if the piece is worn shifted off toward the shoulder. (Be sure to click through to the lot to see how drop-dead gorgeous it is with a backless gown.)

VC&A only made a handful of these necklaces — their sheer opulence as well as jewelry trends evolving away from longer necklaces meant that they were just a memory by the mid-1930s. So needless to say, they don’t show up too often at auction, and Sotheby’s is estimating this one at $800,000 - $1,200,000 USD.

The Christie’s Magnificent Jewels sale in New York is scheduled for June 11, and this piece jumped out at me from among the bling. It’s a “Compression” pendant by the French sculptor and jeweler César Baldaccini (1921–1998). Baldaccini — who is better known just as “César” — became known in the 1960s for compressing cheap materials such as busted cars, scrap iron and general trash into huge sculptures. In the '70s he began to experiment with the same concept, but on a much smaller scale — compressing multiple pieces of fine jewelry together to create wearable sculpture. This experiment was so successful that, according to Sotheby’s, women began bringing him their own collections of jewelry to smoosh.

The Cincinnati Art Museum has a pendant he collaborated on with Cartier, which was apparently part of a larger project:

In 1973, he was commissioned by Cartier to create a series of 33 unique pieces with jewelry that the firm sent him. Having learned with experience, César was able to control, to some degree, the end result, positioning colors and shapes as he desired. Some of his pendants combine silver and gold metals, and others feature jewels that have survived the high-tension compressor and remain intact. No two pieces are alike.

You can see that later lightness of touch in the pendant above, which he’s managed to position so he didn’t crush individual pieces like the tiny terrier and the coat of arms. The piece includes yellow, white and rose gold with single-cut diamonds, and is signed César. Estimate: $15,000 – $20,000 USD.

On June 18, Doyle New York will auction the 450+ lot Collection of Stephen Sondheim, and dear lord, give me all of it. Mr. Sondheim clearly loved stuff — alongside all the Broadway posters and gold records are kaleidoscopes, unusual Victorian furniture, vintage Blackwing pencils, some delightful book collections including early Peanuts books…and look at this Victorian brass-mounted mahogany glass harp, with 27 wine glasses that you play by running your finger around the rim of each glass.

The standout, though, is his incredible collection of games. There are SO MANY interesting things to explore here, from rebus prints to puzzles to early board games like the one above. Titled The Magic Ring, or A New Game, Replete with Humour, and Pleasant Variety, the game is dated November 1st, 1796 and the linen “board” unfolds to display 16 hand-colored sections with the rules printed down each side. I’ll let Doyle describe it for you:

A delightful game with some mildly occult overtones; the "symbolical figures" of the explanatory text include not one but two hostile fairies as well as a benevolent one, a monk, a magician, the grave, etc. The magic ring itself in the central vignette is guarded by a rather melancholy-looking knight, who looks as if he is in thrall to the Belle Dame sans Merci, or perhaps he is merely bored with his part in the game.

It’s estimated at $200 - $300.

That’s it for now, my lovelies. We’ve almost made it to the weekend; can you feel your teeth starting to unclench? No? Me neither. Love you guys. Reset your passwords.

M xx

I feel like this is the kind of thing I used to see on QVC, except guess what? It’s from 1790. This cardboard slipcase comes from Germany, and contains three trays (one of them is empty) of thirty-six cabochon oval specimen hardstones with a central gold ring that has a hinged back, so the stones can be swapped in and out to match one’s outfit. (I regret to tell you I am too old to use the term “fit.”) The set is attributed to the workshop of goldsmith Johann Christian Neuber, Court Jeweler to Frederick Augustus III of Saxony in Dresden.

It’s in the Classic Design: Furniture, Silver & Ceramics auction at Sotheby’s New York later today. It’s estimated at $10,000 - $20,000, but as of right now it’s up to $32,000.

Circa 1908, this extremely mellow silver Fabergé baboon is actually a lighter. (His head flips up to reveal the compartment for lighter fluid.) He’s very finely modeled, with heavy surface chasing to mimic thick fur, and he’s sitting on a detachable stone base that is a later addition.

In addition to the Fabergé and Imperial marks, he also features the hallmark of the First Silver Artel, a collective of silver and gold artisans who were working in St. Petersburg in the early 1900s. Dr. Géza von Habsburg’s book Fabergé: Imperial Craftsman and his World notes that the group came into existence when Julius Rappoport, a Fabergé silversmith renowned for his silver animal figurines, decided to retire in 1908. Rappoport left his workshop and equipment to his workmen in gratitude for their years of service, and their group became known as the First Silver (or Silversmith’s) Artel. (According to Pushkin Antiques, there were actually 34 different artels for silver, but little is known about most of them.) The House of Fabergé supported the collective and sent them commissions, but von Habsburg says that “after two or three years of internal discord, increases in the cost of production and decline in its quality, the Artel ceased to exist.” It folded probably around 1912 or 1913.

Anyway, I’m highlighting him just for this image because my man is a whole mood.

He’s included in the Christie’s online auction The Collector: London closing on April 23, and he’s got an estimate of £4,000 - £6,000 ($5,000 - $7,500).

I’m also compelled to point out this utterly batshit late 19th century French porcelain and gilt-brass carriage clock that looks like it’ll start spinning its pillars and playing carnival music two beats after you walk past it. (And then stop when you look back.)

It’s signed “LUCIEN PARIS” and is also included in that Collector: London auction, estimated at £1,200 - £1,800 ($1,500 - $2,200).

On April 24th, Bonhams is holding an Important Instruments of Science and Technology auction in London. Please look through it — the lots are incredible, although they will make you weep for the beauty and skill humans once exhibited in the creation of everyday objects. But hell, I’m sure developing large language models that use more energy than tens of thousands of US households to generate an anime waifu with huge tits is cool, too.

Anyway. The most important lot in the auction is the Regiomontanus/Cardinal Bessarion astrolabe above. Made of brass and dated 1462, it’s inscribed (in Latin) “Under the protection of the divine Bessarion on whom all can be said to depend I arise in Rome the work of John 1462.”

The astrolabe was created by a young German humanist, Johann Müller (1436-76) — later known as Regiomontanus — under the patronage of Greek Cardinal Johannes Bessarion (1403-1472), another humanist and scholar who advocated for the reunification of the Greek and Roman churches. The astrolabe was one of Müller’s early works, and its design is transitional, featuring engraved Roman script characteristic of the 1400s as well as traces of the preceding Gothic style in some of its numerals and the use of a quatrefoil motif.

Astrolabes were a common tool for centuries. Laura Poppick’s article “Heavens Above” for Bonhams notes that the first astrolabe appeared in the Roman Empire “around the 2nd century AD, and spread to the Islamic world by the 8th century. They remained in use up until the 17th and 18th centuries.”

Their purpose was to track the stars and map one’s location, but they also were used in the Middle Ages for zodiac-based decision-making (we just can’t help ourselves when it comes to astrology, can we?). To use one, Poppick says:

you might first begin by looking through a pinhole on the back of the instrument to find a familiar star in the night sky. From there, you could determine the star’s altitude and carry on with additional calculations on the front of the device, where a round plate with a two-dimensional projection of Earth’s latitudinal lines sat layered with other rotating features. Because the position of stars shifts depending on the geographic location from which you view them, astrolabes often came with a collection of several different plates, each representative of the latitude of a different major city.

The Regiomontanus astrolabe marks the position of 30 named stars that are listed in the lot notes. It also has three interchangeable plates, one of which is marked for Rome.

Further engravings on the back of the piece include a degree scale in four quadrants, “to allow readings to be taken in both altitude and zenith distance,” as well as a zodiacal calendar and the Latin inscription mentioned above. An engraved angel overlooks it all.

If you’re interested in going down a major rabbit hole, historian and author David King wrote a book about this piece called Astrolabes and Angels, Epigrams and Enigmas: From Regiomontanus' Acrostic for Cardinal Bessarion to Piero della Francesca's Flagellation of Christ. King believes that the letters in the astrolabe’s inscription can be isolated into various groupings that identify the figures in the painting The Flagellation of Christ by Piero della Francesca. You can download a pdf of his book here.

The astrolabe is estimated to sell for between £250,000 - £350,000 ($310,000 - $440,000). It’ll be an interesting one to watch.

Circa 1880, this four-strand seed pearl, enamel, tourmaline and diamond necklace was made by Carlo Giuliano, one of my all-time favorite jewelers.

Giuliano was an Italian goldsmith who moved to London in the 1860s. According to Geoffrey Munn’s book Castellani and Giuliano, Revivalist Jewellers of the 19th Century, it’s believed he originally worked for the famous Castellani family of jewelers in Naples, and moved to London to open a branch for them. He later started his own successful shop, specializing in Renaissance Revival and archaeological-style jewelry.

Giuliano was best known for creating intricate pieces that paired gemstones with enameling in the “Holbeinesque” style (named after the Renaissance artist Hans Holbein), which surrounded a central gemstone — in this case, a green tourmaline — with a scrolling openwork frame covered in tiny sections of black and white enamel alongside diamonds and pearls. I can’t resist showing you the detail:

Carlo died in 1895, but his two sons, Carlo Joseph and Arthur, continued the business until the start of the First World War. Their work is very similar to their father’s, but unfortunately, the Giuliano firm ended sadly. We don’t know when Carlo Joseph died, but Arthur committed suicide in August 1914. His motives aren’t known, but according to Munn’s book he had recently left his wife of 20 years for another woman, and it also can’t have been easy to maintain a luxury business after the outbreak of World War I. The business closed after his death, and any remaining stock was sold at auction.

The necklace is included in the Paris Jewels - Bonhams live auction on April 25 and is estimated at €10,000 - €15,000 ($11,000 - $16,000).

LOOK AT THIIIIISSSSS. It’s a *deep breath* North Italian leather-bound black and gilt-decorated hardstone and mother-of-pearl inlaid traveling cabinet.

Christie’s says that small cabinets like this, which were used for traveling and storing precious items, were a staple in Europe. This one was “most probably conceived in the lacquer workshops of Venice in the late 16^th or early 17^th century,” and different preferences in cabinet inlay evolved across different areas of Europe — so while hardstones were popular in Rome, pietra dura, or marble marquetry, was all the rage in Florence, and the Spanish preferred ivory, bone and shell.

The architectural design of this particular cabinet also features inlay that’s been cut into ovals and squares in a nod to the facades of Venetian palazzi. The leather case was decorated probably in the 17th century, and the cabinet includes samples of mother-of-pearl, lapis lazuli, lumachella — a.k.a. “fire marble,” an iridescent marble composed of fossilized snail shells — and agate. Christie’s think the wooden pillars are later replacements for originals made of hardstone.

The cabinet is included in the Christie’s The Collector: New York online auction ending on April 25. It’s estimated at $7,000 - $10,000.

This is not my usual kind of thing, but I love this Art Deco necklace made of red and white glass panels — click the link to see another photo that shows how, when it’s worn, the placement of the red panels make the color seem like its being pulled down by gravity and pooling at the bottom of each segment. Gorgeous. It’s currently up on Butter Lane’s website for $950. Somebody get it.

One final note just for funsies: tomorrow’s European Art and Old Masters auction at Freeman’s | Hindman has a ton of delightful 19th century paintings of dogs — look at this little guy who is Thinking Big Thoughts about whatever he just read, and this Pom who, be warned, will gaze directly into your soul. A jewelry-adjacent piece is this miniature painting of Venice (complete with tiny easel) by Duke Fulco di Verdura. (Yes, that Verdura.) I love the little trompe l'oeil frame he painted on the back.

Ok, that’s it for tonight. Enjoy the rest of your week! Love, M xx

ANYWAY! Jewelry!

I’m going to start off with a piece that has lodged itself in my brain and won’t go away. A few weeks ago, London dealers S.J. Phillips posted this French ruby and diamond brooch on their Instagram. It’s not posted on their website, but I think they must still own it or they would have pulled it off Instagram by now.

Circa 1890, the brooch’s floppy bow design features a long ribbon of cushion-cut rubies with a lacy edge of rose-cut diamonds, all set in gold. One end of the bow is short, while the other drifts down in a long, languid spiral, intertwining with a single strand of rubies that is suspended from the center of the bow and capped with a diamond-accented tassel of additional ruby strands. I particularly love the alternating sizes of the rubies forming the tasseled ribbon, as well as the millegrain texture — that tiny beaded-edge detail added to the settings of the smaller stones.

The brooch is a substantial 5.25” long, and I can only imagine how beautiful and tactile it must be in person. Gah! This is the kind of piece that stops me dead and immediately reasserts my love of antique jewelry, particularly when I’m feeling like a burned-out, jaded husk, lol.

I realize I’m always showing you guys random decorative stuff like this, but by now you MUST know I’m a complete sucker for beautifully rendered sculptural creatures. This is a 19th century bronze figural tazza — a wide, shallow bowl or cup supported by a stem — made by Jules Moigniez (French, 1835-1894). The centerpiece consists of a fox gazing down into the bowl, which is apparently covered with relief carvings of forest animals (unfortunately we can’t see it because they’ve been skimpy with the pictures).

Supporting the bowl is an absolutely gorgeous vulture perched upon a rocky pedestal, with a base embellished with leaves and berries. The whole thing is set on a slate plinth and measures just under a foot tall. It’s in the online European Decor & Design auction at Bonhams Skinner ending today, and it’s estimated at $700 - $900.

I have a fondness for vultures because they had a habit of congregating on the roof of my last job. Literally like 30+ vultures standing on top of a print publisher. Amazing.

Another creature — sorry — but look at this gilt and pearl brooch! The natural shape of the baroque pearl inspired a jeweler to create a tiny dog resting in a patterned bed with tassels of green enamel and ruby. It’s not dated, but I think it might be quite old. It’s included in the Freeman’s | Hindman Jewelry Through the Ages: Georgian to Modern auction today and is estimated at $700 - $900, but as of time of writing, it already has 17 bids and is up to $1,600.

This amethyst, black onyx and diamond bracelet is one of those seductive pieces that feels like it could completely reconstruct the wearer. If I slapped that thing on, would I instantly transform from a potato into a disdainful femme fatale with sleek hair and a bias-cut dress? Absolutely not, but it would be nice to try.

Not much info on the piece other than that it consists of 11 sugarloaf cabochon amethysts, single-cut diamonds and black onyx set in silver and yellow gold. It’s in today’s Jewelry Unlimited auction at Rago in Lambertville, PA, and it has an estimate of $3,000 - $4,000.

Note: Rago is holding an Art Nouveau | Art Deco Glass & Lighting auction the following day, and there are some really beautiful pieces included if that’s your jam.

This delightful brooch is by New York designers Sophia D and features a pavé-set diamond octopus clinging onto some branch coral, with cabochon sapphire eyes and cultured pearl bubbles. It’s included in the online Spring Fine Jewelry auction ending tomorrow at Skinner Boston, and carries an estimate of $2,000 - $3,000.

This mid-20th century diamond cocktail watch by Hamilton is notable for having belonged to Pattie Boyd, the model, photographer, muse and former wife of both George Harrison and Eric Clapton. Boyd is selling a collection of photos, letters and mementos from her life in The Pattie Boyd Collection, an online auction ending Friday at Christie’s London, and the whole thing is a pop culture treasure trove for nosy SOBs like myself.

Some of the stuff in the collection is intensely personal, including yearning love letters from Clapton prior to her break from Harrison. Christie’s asked Boyd if parting with these items was a cathartic experience, and she said yes: “I thought, ‘Do I need them? Do I need to keep going into Pandora’s Box?’ I’ve enjoyed them for many, many years, and now it’s time for other people to see and enjoy them. It’s only right I should pass them on.”

Circa 1870, this ornate little butterfly brooch features wings that have been intricately enameled in blue with a body striped in black enamel. It rests on a floral perch within an oval frame, with seed pearl accents set throughout.

It took me a second look to realize this isn’t just a butterfly brooch, though. There’s actually a portrait miniature hidden beneath the butterfly, and the wings shift to reveal the face! Delightful. It’s in the Jewels Online auction ending at Bonhams London on March 26th; estimate £600 - £800 ($760 - $1,000).

In case anyone out there is looking to become a cartoon villain, there’s an actual HOURGLASS FULL OF DIAMONDS in the Phillips Watches Online Auction: The Hong Kong Sessions, Spring 2024, also ending on March 26th. Made by DeBeers (no shit) and circa the 2000s, it’s edition 89 out of 500, and it features an engraved silver base with an illuminated silver and blue enamel stand. The hourglass is filled with over 2000 loose diamonds. (Estimate: $5,100 - $10,300.)

Says Phillips: “It would not fail to kindle enormous delight as one watches the shimming diamonds float through the hourglass under the blue light.” *HEAVY SIGH* Alright, let me get my edibles.

There is sooooooooo much good stuff in the March 27th Fine Jewels auction at Sotheby’s Paris — literally the first lot (a snake’s head necklace with a big natural pearl drop) had me yelling “I WANT THAT” in my head. Other pieces I thought about highlighting include this lovely sugarloaf cabochon sapphire ring, and this Art Nouveau brooch by Georges Fouquet that features three stylized and intertwined crabs.

The piece I’ve settled on is the horn and glass paste necklace above by Elisabeth Bonté. Bonté was the only woman jeweler to emerge from the French Art Nouveau movement of the early 1900s, and she specialized in using carved horn as her primary material. She was greatly inspired by the work of René Lalique, and her designs usually featured natural themes — leaves, flowers, trees etc. — in the form of large pendants suspended on long silk cords.

The necklace above features a carved horn fuchsia flower pendant colored in red and green, with a silk cord embellished with glass paste beads and additional carved horn petals. The piece is finished with a glass drop. It’s around 20” long.

Photos never do Bonté’s work justice — the translucence of the horn has a depth and luminosity that seems impossible to catch on camera. If you ever have a chance to see her jewelry in person, take it.

That’s it for me tonight! Sorry I’m such a misery boots these days. A number of things are overwhelming me, but I’m so glad you’re all still willing to read this silliness, and I especially want to say a very heartfelt THANK YOU to my paying subscribers for your support. If you weren’t out there, I’m 100% certain I’d have abandoned this newsletter at some point in the past year. I truly appreciate your…um, buttressing.

Oh and one final note — I have not had time to do any research on this wedding, but have you SEEN the EMERALDS on this family?!??!?

Ok bye. M xx

Let’s get the spectacular out of the way first. The picture doesn’t even remotely do it justice, but this is The Hope Cup, a 1855 gold, enamel and hardstone vase made by the goldsmith Jean-Valentin Morel as a commission for the “fabulously wealthy” London banker Henry Thomas Hope (of the curséd diamond Hopes, don’tcha know). It depicts the Greek mythological story of Perseus and Andromeda in exhausting detail, and Sotheby’s has put together a nice little video that decodes the drama and gives us some great closeups:

The cup was created from an 80lb block of jasper — the cutting alone took three years — and the finished piece deservedly won the grand medal at the 1855 Exposition Universelle in Paris. It’s going up for sale in the live auction The One at Sotheby’s New York on Friday, and it’s estimated to fetch $1,800,000 - $2,500,000.

Now that that’s out of the way, I’m going to go into waaay more detail about a metal crab, because this is my newsletter and I will do what I want.

So, remember a while back I told you about how, back in the 1500s, bronze creatures were all the rage in Padua, Italy? Snakes, lizards, crayfish, shells and mythological creatures (like the sea monster I wrote about previously) were cast in bronze and sold for display or for use as functional desk items. The foundries in Northern Italy created realistic bronzes like the crab above by making casts from the crustaceans themselves — packing clay around the (dead) body and then baking it until the natural material had burned away and left a detailed mold behind.

Crabs were particularly useful as functional desk ornaments because of their shape — the shells were easily hinged, and the bodies an ideal container for the fine sand used by Renaissance scribes to soak up ink. They often would come as part of a set, with different designs serving as inkwells, pen holders etc.

So that’s all interesting and whatever, but the early 16th century Paduan crab above — which failed to sell at Christie’s Paris in 2020, where it was labeled as a 19th century Meiji period bronze from Japan — caught my eye because of its provenance. This is just the first few bits:

Francis II of Habsburg (1768–1835), Holy Roman Emperor (1792–1806), Archduke of Austria (1804–1835);
Thence by descent to his son Ferdinand I of Habsburg (1793–1875), Emperor of Austria (1835–1848);
Thence by inheritance to his nephew, Franz Joseph I of Habsburg (1830–1916), Emperor of Austria, King of Hungary, of Croatia and of Bohemia (1848–1916)

Three emperors! That’s a lot of emperors.

We don’t know how the crab first made it into the Imperial Habsburg collection (although Sotheby’s doesn’t mind speculating about Archduke Ferdinand II [1529-1595] in the lot notes), but we do know that during the second half of the 19th century, it was housed in Vienna’s Lower Belvedere Palace along with the rest of the Imperial Collections. It was later moved in 1891 to the Kunsthistorisches Museum, where it stayed until 1923, when the museum traded it to a dealer — along with three other bronzes — for a bronze relief of the Miracle of St Agnes by Alessandro Algardi.

The crab was then bought by and passed through three generations of the Cormier-Thierry-Delanoue family before ending up at Christie’s Paris in a group lot with two other bronze animals — a turtle and a buffalo — all labeled Meiji. I tracked down the auction, but it looks like the lot was pulled from display because it didn’t sell.

The piece — again labeled Meiji — then resurfaced and sold the following year for €2,060 at the Thierry de Maigret auction house in Paris. (Side note: I’m not going to cast any stones about mislabeling, because 1. mistakes happen, and 2. I have no doubt auction house employees are being worked into an early grave just like the rest of us.)

It seems Sotheby’s was able to shuck off that Meiji label because somebody spotted a four-digit red inventory number (5905) on the inside of the crab’s shell that matches the well-documented inventory of the Habsburg collection. There were originally six crabs in the collection and, going by number, it’s likely this is one of the first three they acquired. The other two — 5902 and 5909 — are still in the Kunsthistorisches Museum.

The crab is being sold in the Master Sculpture & Works of Art live auction at Sotheby’s New York on February 2, and it’s estimated at $25,000 - $35,000.

You guys know I’m a sucker for anything in a purpose-made box, so this ca. 1815 table cabinet containing various specimens of marble and hardstones is 100% my deal.

According to Christie’s, the box was “presumably made for a collector of marble specimens, or possibly a sample box for a cabinet-maker,” and the specimens inside include slabs of malachite, alabaster, yellow marble (Giallo Antico) and Sicilian jasper. The box itself is also gorgeous — it’s made of oak and burr-elm with an inlay of ebony, and is attributed to George Bullock, one of the most innovative and sought-after cabinetmakers of the Regency period.

The piece is included in the Philip Hewat-Jaboor: An Eye for the Magnificent auction at Christie’s London on February 8th and is estimated to sell for £6,000 – £10,000 ($7,600 - $12,700).

Next Wednesday, props from the phenomenally popular Netflix show The Crown will go on the block at Bonhams London in the live The Crown Auction, with The Crown Auction Online following from February 8-11. So if you want a reproduction of Diana’s ring, a kaftan worn by Helena Bonham Carter as Princess Margaret, or a selection of seven wicker dog beds, get ready.

But clearly what EVERYONE needs is a replica of the Gold State Coach built in 1762 for King George III. The prop was constructed by two companies: Devil's Horsemen, who built the chassis, and Anarchy Ltd, who were responsible for the body. According to the lot notes, it was not a simple project:

A highly experienced prop-making, model-making and special-effects company, Anarchy began by carrying out an inspection of the real Gold State Coach. From photographs taken they drew up the carriage and CNC machined a wooden jig for The Devil's Horsemen to build the wheels and chassis. With some artistic license, Anarchy used a combination of 3D CNC machining, hand sculpting in clay, and 3D printing to produce the components. Hand-sculpted elements were moulded and cast in GRP (glassfibre). Anarchy also fabricated offset steel hinges and cast brass handles featuring lion's head details to tie in with the carvings on the main body. Completed in 2019, the carriage was then used in production of The Crown.

The carriage is estimated at £30,000 - £50,000 ($38,000 - $63,000).

The other big auction event on deck is The Collection of Sir Elton John: Goodbye Peachtree Road at Christie’s New York. The lots — EIGHT auctions-worth of them — have mainly been drawn from the Atlanta home John and his partner David Furnish lived in for the past 30 years. (He sold the place last year, after he retired from touring.) The series of sales — two live auctions and six online — will take place from February 8 through February 28, and I beg you to please click the link above to see the full group, because I’m definitely not typing all that out.

It’s an eclectic mix, of course. There are platform boots, a Bentley convertible and a green Baroque wig that I frankly covet, but the standout of all the sales is the photography. According to Christie’s, John started collecting photography in earnest in the 1990s after he got sober, and he operated on the masterpiece level, amassing some of the most iconic and recognizable photos from the likes of Richard Avedon, Horst P. Horst and Irving Penn. A rare variation of Avedon’s famous Dovima with Elephants, 1955 is one of the sale’s blockbuster lots, featuring a landscape composition and a different Dior dress than shown in the better-known vertical version. It’s estimated at $100,000-$150,000. (There’s more on the photography collection here, along with some photos that give us a tiny glimpse into how John displayed some of his collection in the Peachtree home.)

As for the jewelry…this is Elton John, so obviously there’s a lot of big gaudy gold and diamond stuff from major names — Cartier, Versace, Kieselstein-Cord, etc. — but also from contemporary London designers like Stephen Webster and LOTS of Theo Fennell (who I suppose should now also be namechecked as the father of Saltburn writer/director Emerald Fennell). I snorted at the Fennell pendant in one of the sales that features a single diamond-set cursive word within a diamond circle, because Christie’s refuses to state that it says “arsehole.”

There’s not much particularly OLD stuff, jewelry-wise, but I did spot this ca. 1915 amethyst and gold cross necklace by 15th-generation French jewelers Mellerio, and also this garnet, diamond and enamel pendant, which looks like a 19th century Holbeinesque piece but has very little accompanying info. And of course there are plenty of super expensive pieces to cover, but I’m going to focus on the aluminum rocket cufflinks above instead, because they’re adorable, and again, my newsletter etc. They carry an estimate of $2,500 – $3,500 and were made by Deakin & Francis, a 7th-generation family jewelry business founded in Birmingham, England back in 1786 (and they’re still based in the same factory!)

Deakin & Francis are renowned for their massive selection of cufflinks, and in fact those rockets are $570 if you aren’t interested in the fancy provenance. Also — Christie’s didn’t mention this, but if you pull the little lever on the side of each cufflink, it shoots out those enameled golden flames.

This little silver imp is actually a lighter, and Bonhams London think he might be based on the character Psammead, a wish-granting sand-fairy featured in a trilogy of children’s books — the first is Five Children and It — by The Railway Children author E. Nesbit. Wikipedia gives us a quick rundown on the little guy:

…Five children find the Psammead in a gravel pit, which used to be seashore. There were once many Psammeads, but the others died when they got wet and caught cold. It is the last of its kind. It is thousands of years old, and remembers pterodactyls and other ancient creatures.

The piece is tentatively attributed to silversmith Charles Edwin Turner, Birmingham 1911, and features a removable head and a spherical body with outstretched arms and crossed legs. He’s estimated at £600 - £800 ($760 - $1,000), and is included in the live auction The Connoisseur's Library Sale, taking place on February 13-14 at Bonhams London.

Just fyi: that’s a delightful auction to browse, with 901 lots including such randomness as a set of late 19th/early 20th century carved wood truncheons, a bright orange guilloché enamel and diamond cigarette case by Fabergé, and a relic dating back the days we used to hide our porn in owls.

Included in the February 8th American Design auction at Wright Chicago is this unassuming little ca. 1932 Measured Time clock and kitchen timer. Cool thing is, it was designed by legendary sculptor Isamu Noguchi.

During the Depression, Noguchi’s large-scale public art proposals were a no-go, so instead, according to the Isamu Noguchi Foundation and Museum, “he channeled his energy into rethinking the design of everyday life.” Among a billion other things, he designed cases for clocks and baby monitors, invented a lighted musical weathervane, and racked up a whole bunch of patents. And according to Wright, this little clock/kitchen timer was the first of Noguchi’s designs to go into mass production. It’s made of Bakelite, glass, printed paper and enameled brass, and was produced by the Stevenson Mfg. Co. Estimate: $1,000 - $1,500.

That has to be it for today, because the ridiculous amount of links I’ve larded in here is putting me over the size limit. I do want to shout out one thing, though: Starting Friday, the brilliant ladies of Drinks with Broads are going to be recapping the anthology series Feud: Capote vs. The Swans, which debuts on FX tonight (and on Hulu tomorrow). I seriously haven’t been this jazzed about anything in ages. Both show and recaps! Feud focuses on writer Truman Capote’s close friendships with (and betrayal of) many of the highest-of-the-high society New York women of the 1960s, and it’s got a killer cast including Naomi Watts, Diane Lane and Demi Moore. Calista Flockhart as Lee Radziwill! I highly recommend signing up for a paid sub to join the fun.

Ok that’s it. Love you guys! Take care of yourselves. M xx

Hi everyone, I’ve neglected you all horribly and I’m deeply grateful that you’re still here — THANK YOU for your support and encouragement, because there’s no way Dearest would have survived this year without it. 2023 was easily the worst work year of my life, but as of Wednesday, the major foundational graft is done, and I’m hoping 2024 will let me hav…

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It’s that time again for the Magnificent Jewels sales, so let’s get my preliminary gripe about diamonds out of the way. BUT I ASK YOU, how am I supposed to care about all these giant, ultra-rare diamonds when there are clearly enough of them around to keep populating all these fricking auctions every year? Today’s sale at Sotheby’s New York has an unmounted 133.03-carat yellow diamond estimated at $4 – $5 million, while tomorrow’s sale at Christie’s features a set of orange-yellow diamond earrings estimated at $7 – $12 million. Good LORD.

Whatever, Monica, stop being a buzzkill. The hook for the Sotheby’s sale is that it’s got a bunch of stuff that was previously owned by old Hollywood royalty: Frank and Barbara Sinatra, Red Skelton, Mary Tyler Moore, and Tony Randall. Sotheby’s has kindly separated their collections out for us here, but I’m going to highlight my favorite piece from the whole sale: the delightful little hippocamp brooch above, from the collection of Tony Randall.

The hippocamp (or hippocampus) is one of my favorite mythological creatures; it’s a horse/fish hybrid that appears in Greek, Phoenician and Etruscan mythology, and has been depicted in various forms — paintings, coins, mosaics, sculpture — for centuries. Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea, is often shown driving a chariot pulled by hippocampi, and they’re also seen flanking Oceanus, the Titan god of water, in Rome’s 18th-century Trevi Fountain. (Also, please check out this absolutely phenomenal late 16th century Spanish hippocamp pendant in the collection of the British Museum.)

Tony Randall’s adorable little brooch is by Verdura, who I told you about back in June. Circa 1962, it features a bright ruby eye and a body set with round diamonds. His little legs are killing me. Estimate: $15,000 - $25,000.

Note: If you can’t get enough of mythological horsies, check out this huge colored diamond and pink gold Pegasus bracelet in the Sotheby’s New York Fine Jewels sale closing on Dec. 7.

Amid a sea of diamonds and big brassy Retro jewels, my choice of the Christie’s sale is this elegant circa 1915 Tiffany & Co. necklace, designed by Louis Comfort Tiffany. It’s a riot of gemstones, mixing chrysoberyl, opal, orange garnet, sapphire, topaz, green garnet and seed pearls in a yellow gold setting. Estimate: $50,000 – $70,000.

If you’re less of a Tiffany & Co. jewelry person and more of a Tiffany Studios glass person, get ready to scroll, because there are three back-to-back auctions happening in New York this week. On Wednesday, Sotheby’s will present The Cycad Collection: Masterworks by Tiffany Studios and Prewar Design, featuring a large range of lamps — including this Wisteria lamp, estimated at $600,000 - $800,000 — and some quirky bronze desk accessories.

Next up on Thursday is The Doros Collection: The Art Glass of Louis Comfort Tiffany (also at Sotheby’s New York). American glass collectors Jay and Micki Doros were married for 71 years and obsessed about glass for seemingly all of them, attending more than 50 seminars at the Corning Museum of Glass and rooting out pieces in antique shops during their family vacations. Starting out focusing on glass knife rests, they eventually moved on to a couple of decades of studying and buying American cut glass, and finally settled on the glasswork of Louis Comfort Tiffany. 66 pieces from their collection are featured in this auction — the majority of which are exquisite Favrile glass vases produced by Tiffany Studios. It’s one side of Tiffany that I don’t know much about at all, and I keep being drawn to this “Apple Blossom” paperweight vase, because it’s so unlike anything I usually associate with the name “Tiffany.”

Jay and Micki are sadly no longer with us, but their son Paul wrote about his parents for Sotheby’s last year, and they sound like they were lovely people:

“Mom and Dad never believed that their role was as keepers of the Louis Tiffany flame. The collection was for their own personal enjoyment and for the few people who were fortunate enough to be invited to visit the house and go on one of Jay’s lengthy but enjoyable “tours.” Dad would practically bounce from case to case, with a sparkle in his eye, talking enthusiastically, and sometimes endlessly, mostly about glassmaking techniques. And everyone was required to handle each and every object under discussion.”

Finally, on Friday, Christie’s New York will present Tiffany, a 41-piece auction spanning everything from lamps to vases to paintings to windows — including the stunning circa 1910 “Grapevine and Trellis” window shown above.

Most of the leaded glass windows made by Tiffany Studios were commissions for churches, so when they got to make something for a private residence — like the window above — Tiffany had a little more freedom to explore his desire to bring the outside in. The window features a grapevine motif that symbolizes abundance and prosperity, but it also contains a depiction of wrought iron fencing, which is an unusual design element for Tiffany Studios that Christie’s believe may be unique to this particular window. The symmetrical rigidity of the fencing/trellis contrasts wonderfully with the wildness of the leaves and vines — I highly recommend clicking through and blowing up the image and/or looking at some of the closeups in the lot essay. The way the studio used shards of confetti glass to create depth and the illusion of foliage at the bottom of the window! Gah! It’s a beautiful thing. Estimate: $250,000 – $350,000.

Any Rush fans out there? I know there’s at least one of you. Years of observance has shown me just how dedicated Rush fans are, so you guys are probably already aware of the Selections from the Geddy Lee Collection and Important Baseball Memorabilia sale that’s happening at Christie’s New York tomorrow. Please bear with me while I bring it to the attention of those who tend to orbit outside of the Lee/Peart/Lifeson universe (i.e., all of womankind). (I KID, I KID.) There’s a second online auction that closes on the 7th.

So apparently Lee — the lead vocalist, bassist, and keyboardist for the band — has been collecting baseball stuff for over 4 decades, and he explained on Instagram why he’s now selling some of it:

It’s been an education and privilege for the past 35 years to amass a wonderful and supremely mammoth collection of baseball memorabilia. Yet, I’ve decided it’s time to move some of it on for other collectors to enjoy. I admit I’m a crazy person, who’s been obsessed with the acquisition of many, MANY, fascinating things. Most recently, of course, a wonderful collection of vintage bass guitars. Yet, you just can’t have it all! What an effin’ blast it’s been, but I must have had too much stuff because after these selections were sent to Christies my wife stepped into my office and said, “Hey! I thought you were selling some of your collection?? ” … Uh, yeah Honey, I am…. Oopsie!

The sale features an absolute ton of historic signed baseballs, but one of the most iconic pieces of Lee’s collection is the baseball above, which was signed by all four members of the Beatles at their August 15, 1965 Shea Stadium concert in New York. It’s estimated at $100,000 – $300,000, and I’m curious to see how this one sells. Beatles AND Rush provenance? Hmm.

Circa 1890, these three tiny hair ornaments take the shape of silver and gold swallow-tailed hummingbirds, with emerald and diamond plumage and ruby eyes. The set comes with four hairpins, and the larger bird — complete with long tail feathers set with additional emeralds and diamonds — also has a detachable brooch fitting. They’re included in the London Jewels auction on December 7 at Bonhams London, and are estimated to sell for £10,000 - £15,000 ($12,600 - $19,000).

I’m just grateful they’re not real hummingbirds, because the feather trade — which extended into jewelry made from actual bird heads — was still booming at the time these pieces were made. Bonhams notes:

At the 1867 Universal Exposition in Paris, Napoleon III and Eugenie paid the jeweller Leon Rouvenat more than 25,000 francs for a hummingbird brooch of emeralds, sapphires, and diamonds. Soon every wealthy lady was wearing hummingbird jewellery, either mounted in precious metals and gemstones or made from trochilidae skins.

Thankfully, tastes started to change in the early part of the 20th century, but unfortunately not before countless species of birds were hunted into extinction. (There is a suite of hummingbird head jewelry on the website of London antique jewelry dealer Rowan & Rowan, if you really want to see.)

You never know what extremely random object might turn up in a Books & Manuscripts auction, and this silver and turquoise ring is a good example. It’s believed to have been presented to Swiss psychologist Carl Jung by a member of the Navajo Nation during Jung’s trip to the American southwest in January 1925. According to Sotheby’s, “his party undertook a wide-ranging tour during their short visit to New Mexico, visiting Native American tribes in Taos Pueblo and Frijoles Canyon.”

Jung had the opportunity to speak at length with a tribal leader Ochwiay Biano (Chief Mountain Lake) while he was in Taos Pueblo, and he described one of their conversations in his book Memories, Dreams, Reflections:

See,” Ochwiay Bianco said, “how cruel the whites look. Their lips are thin, their noses sharp, their faces furrowed and distorted by folds. Their eyes have a staring expression; they are always seeking something. What are they seeking? The whites always want something; they are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think they are mad.”

I asked him why he thought the whites were all mad.

“They say they think with their heads,” he replied.

“Why of course. What do you think with,” I asked him in surprise.

“We think here,” he said, indicating his heart.

I fell into a long meditation. For the first time in my life, as it seemed to me, someone had drawn for me a picture of the real white man [....] What we from our point of view call colonisation, missions to the heathen, spread of civilisation, etc., has another face – the face of a bird of prey seeking with cruel intentness for distant quarry – a face worthy of a race of pirates and highwaymen. 

Yeah no shit, Carl.

The ring is included in the Books, Manuscripts and Music from Medieval to Modern auction at Sotheby’s London on December 12, and carries an estimate of £3,000 - £5,000 ($3,800 - $6,300).

That’s gotta be it for today; this post is groaning from the sheer volume of links. Sorry!

I also have some sad jewelry-world news to share: the iconic fourth-generation Venetian jeweler Attilio Codognato passed away last month at the age of 86. Women’s Wear Daily reported that, prior to his death, Codognato was “in talks with Francesca Amfitheatrof about taking over creative control of the family company, which she has agreed to do sooner than anticipated.” Amfitheatrof, the former design director of Tiffany & Co., will take on the role in addition to her current position as artistic director of jewelry at Louis Vuitton.

Codognato’s death is a huge loss to the jewelry world. He was truly a throwback to another time: fiercely private and deliberately small-scale (just one shop, in Venice), with skills and designs that went back four generations. I’m glad he made provisions for the company to continue, but it won’t be the same.

I included my favorite piece of his — a memento mori ring featuring a skull partially obscured beneath a murky window of emerald — in this newsletter back in 2020, before many of you signed on. Click through if you’re so inclined.

Sorry to end on such a bummer. Um, at least it’s not Monday anymore? Have a good week, everyone!

M xx

Hello all! I know it’s the October spooOOOooky issue, but my day job is trying to murder me right now, so please accept my apologies because I haven’t had the time and attention to devote to this production that I normally do. But I’ve still found some fun things to highlight — at least three of which I would very much like to own, and one that I would very much like to set on fire.

SO. There are bat brooches, and there are BAT BROOCHES. The silver and gold brooch above, which is in the collection of London dealers Wartski, is entirely covered with old mine- and rose-cut diamonds with cushion-cut ruby eyes.

The description notes that bat motifs were more of an Art Nouveau thing, so this brooch, which is English and dates to around 1880, is unusual:

[Bat motif] jewels predating 1900, particularly so lavishly set with diamonds, are very rare. The brooch would clearly have been made with the intention of playing with the disquieting associations of the bat and is imbued with the Victorian sense of the macabre (as well as a clear sense of humour).

Even better, it comes with a frame that allows it to be CONVERTED INTO A TIARA.

Nothing particularly spooky here, I just adore this poofy, squinty owl. Circa 1890-99 with Italian hallmarks, the owl is parcel-gilt silver (which means that part of it is gilded) with glass eyes and beautiful texturing to depict the feathers. The owl is placed on a footed (hooved?) base of marble, and in total it’s around 11 inches tall. I really recommend clicking through to see him from other angles, because he’s a delightful little puffball and if I had a spare €11.000 ($11,700), I’d be heading over to Florence, Italy tomorrow to buy him from Ponte Vecchio-based dealers Bernardo Antichità.

I’ve always loved the mischievous little devil horn tiaras designed by our late Queen, Vivienne Westwood, mainly because their perfect but understated small size sets them apart in her generally over-the-top universe. Westwood made them in all sorts of variations, like the diamante version she’s wearing above, or the gold one she famously wore to Buckingham Palace in 2006 when she was elevated to the title of Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire.

There’s currently a brown marble version on Poshmark, but alas — it’s $3,200, so it shall never be mine. There are also a couple of Westwood leather headbands with light-up horns on 1st Dibs, but they’re a bit too much for me.

Continuing with the devil theme, this circa 1880 sterling silver beer barrel charm conceals a tiny, spring-loaded imp as a novelty reference to the saying “the Devil lives in a bottle.” When you open the barrel, his little enameled head pops out like a jack-in-the-box. It’s available from Butter Lane Antiques for $1,500.

Not much info from Bonhams Skinner on this early 20th century ventriloquist dummy, probably because it wants it that way.

It sold for $205 in the Autumn Americana Collections auction earlier today at Bonhams Skinner, and I hope whoever bought it sticks it back in that case with a large cinder block and dumps it into the Mariana Trench. (Lol, as if it would ever let them get that far.)

The collection of my nemesis Barbara Walters is going up for sale on November 6 at Bonhams New York. Barbara Walters: American Icon primarily showcases her jewelry collection — with some furniture, paintings and assorted tchotchkes thrown in — but the great thing about having my own self-indulgent newsletter is that I get to ignore the Harry Winston diamonds and highlight the above early 20th century Georgian-style silver-plated warming stand with chicken legs and the face of a tiny satyr. I’m forced to (extremely ungraciously and begrudgingly) admit that I like her for having owned this.

In honor of the season, 1st Dibs has assembled a number of pieces on the site into a Wunderkammer, or cabinet of curiosities. It’s got lots of taxidermy, mourning jewelry, stone specimens and even some Alexander McQueen x-ray leggings.

The piece above — which places an impala skull and horns atop a patinated metal base — dates to around 1970-1979, and it was created by London interior designer and gallery owner Antony Redmile (click through to see a photo of perhaps the most 1970s man ever). A 1985 article in the Chicago Tribune described the designer’s extravagant style:

He glued a zillion shells to a cabinet for Princess Grace; constructed a life-size seated camel (“overlaid with crushed ostrich egg, malachite and silver”) as a dining table base for the Acapulco home of the Baron and Baroness Portanova and devised a surrealistic furniture series for the theatrical artist/designer Erte.

Redmile’s company is still in existence and the website notes that all their materials (antlers, taxidermy, etc.) are sustainably and ethically sourced. I still don’t particularly want any of it.

Anyway, those Baphomet-like horns can’t help but remind me of that colossal asshat — sorry, renowned occultist Aleister Crowley, so what the heck: I’m here and this is the spooky issue, so pull up a chair and let me tell you about That Time William Butler Yeats Kicked Aleister Crowley Down the Stairs.

According to Yeats’s biographer Richard Ellman, this really did happen. (I read somewhere that he actually heard it from Crowley, not from Yeats, but whatever.) I don’t feel like looking it all up for correct dates and whatever so I’m just going to riff it out by memory; please forgive any gleeful editorializing.

Ok, so: around the turn of the last century, both Yeats and Crowley were members of an occult society that also included writers Bram Stoker, Algernon Blackwood and Arthur Conan Doyle, Irish revolutionary (and Yeats love interest) Maud Gonne and a bunch of other fairly well-known people. The group had a lot of highfalutin romanticized ideas about mysticism, but in reality, they weren’t much different than the rest of Victorian society, which at this point was obsessed with mediums shooting ectoplasm out their ears.

At some point Yeats and the rest of the group decided that Crowley was using his “magic” for evil, so they voted to kick him out. Crowley — who embarrassingly called himself “the Great Beast” — found out about the plan and decided to steal the sacred papers outlining the group’s rituals.

In case you were wondering, the best way to approach this task (or perhaps the worst, considering the outcome) is to put on a mask of the Egyptian god Osiris and swath yourself in voluminous tartan robes with a big fricking Crusader’s cross on your chest. Bedecked in this finery, Crowley went steaming over to the group’s Temple of the Golden Wang (or whatever), which was literally a room above a café in London. As he was starting up the stairs, Yeats and a couple other members of the group appeared at the top. The two men began to literally shout magic spells at each other, and when Crowley made it up to the top, the spindly, bespectacled Yeats kicked the Great Plaid Beast right back down the stairs.

Crowley then pulled a “well I don’t need your stupid society” and started his own religion which was called Thermidor1 or something like that. No, sorry — it wasn’t that but it was something close. “Thermidor” is only in my brain because I memorized the entire 1984 Philadelphia Phillies yearbook when I was 12 and it told me that the favorite meal of my official Phillie crush, Von Hayes (#9), was lobster thermidor. Sorry. (GO PHILS) (As I’m writing this, our beloved wet himbos are trailing the Diamondbacks by two in the eighth inning and my 87 yo dad is about to start whipping D batteries at the tv announcers)

Ok that’s it for today, everybody. I desperately need to get some sleep. One last thing, though: there’s some fun stuff in the online Music and Monsters sale ending on Halloween at Bonhams Los Angeles, including scripts, costumes and props, as well as Jerry Lee Lewis’s custom-made piano.

I hope you all have a wonderful Halloween!

M xx

Sotheby’s is selling The Infinite Blue, an 11.28 carat radiant-cut fancy vivid blue diamond in a single-lot live auction in Hong Kong on October 5. It’s very pretty! And it’s been further embellished by an 18k white and pink gold setting that pairs trapeze-cut diamonds on the shoulders with a frame of pink brilliant-cut diamonds. It’s quite something:

The Infinite Blue diamond comes from South Africa’s Cullinan mine (a.k.a. the Premier Mine), a legendary mine that opened in 1902 and eventually emerged as the main source of natural blue diamonds in the world. The mine is operated by Petra Diamonds Ltd., who initially released the Infinite Blue as part of the Letlapa Tala Collection, a group of five rough blue diamonds they sold to a partnership between DeBeers and Diacore back in 2020 for $40 million. (You can see a short video featuring all five rough diamonds here.)

The Infinite Blue was the largest of the set, and according to Sotheby’s, the stone went on to be “faceted and polished with the inclusion of the number 8 in mind. Well-regarded as an embodiment of prosperity and auspiciousness in Asia, the form of the numerical digit is reminiscent to the universal symbol for infinity.” I would like to know more about how the number was worked into the cut, but I have yet to find anything specific.

The stone is a big deal because blue diamonds are crazy rare, particularly at larger sizes. We know they get their color from the element boron, but the weird thing is, boron is usually present in the earth’s crust, NOT deep in the mantle where natural diamonds are formed. So how the heck are blue diamonds coming out of there? A 2018 study led by Gemological Institute of America geologist Evan Smith has possibly cracked the case, and apparently it’s all about plate tectonics. Their paper is here (access required), but Science News has a nice little summation:

The likeliest explanation, Smith and colleagues say, is that the boron hitched a ride with a subducting ocean plate.

Boron is dissolved in seawater, which circulates through ocean seafloor and reacts with certain minerals to form a water-rich mineral called serpentinite. During a tectonic collision, an oceanic plate bearing serpentinite may subduct, or sink beneath another plate. The sinking plate then carries the serpentinite — including the boron — deep into the mantle.

So this means that blue diamonds are among the deepest diamonds formed on earth, which is pretty cool. Shame they make it all the way to the surface only to sit in some sociopathic billionaire’s safe in Dubai.

The Infinite Blue is expected to sell for between $26,000,000 - $37,000,000.

From October 3-17, Christie’s is presenting a series of auctions in New York entitled Rothschild Masterpieces, and let me just tell you: shit is BANANAS. The series includes three live auctions and one online, and will present pieces from the collection of Baron James de Rothschild, his wife Betty and their sons Baron Alphonse and Baron Gustave.

James was the Rothschild who expanded the family’s banking empire to France during the early 19th century, and he was an avid collector. His sons continued the tradition, so these sales run the gamut from Renaissance jewelry, Old Master paintings, European furniture and silver, Italian ceramics…it’s a lot. Baroque decorative arts are just a whole vibe. It’s not necessarily MY vibe, but it certainly is a lot more fun to scroll through than page after page of colorless diamonds.

So first up, there’s the Rothschild Masterpieces sale that has the super high-end stuff in it, like this early 16th century French diamond and enameled gold badge depicting Saint Michael having a great time slaying the dragon. It’s not just a regular old brooch or pendant, though, says Christie’s:

This type of badge, which could be worn as a hat-badge, would carry a political as well as personal or chivalric message. Hat-badges or pendants acted as fashion accessories as seen in portraits painted across Europe in the early to mid-16th century, and could also help identify a sitter or express their courtly status.

The fact that Michael’s body is made of diamonds leads them to speculate that this particular badge was created for a royal. The estimate is $80,000 – $120,000.

So the REALLY bananas stuff is in the second sale: Rothschild Masterpieces: The Kunstkammer. That’s where you’ll see a lot of the wild things rich people used to decorate their tables many centuries ago, so we’re talking lots of nautilus shells in gilded mounts and whatnot. Also, LOTS of Italian Renaissance maiolica, or tin-glazed pottery.

The piece above is a novelty maiolica ewer that was probably made at a workshop in Urbino, Italy around 1580-1600. It’s possible it was actually used at the table or simply kept as a decoration, but the piece takes the trippy form of a harpy-like creature with the winged body and webbed feet of a bird, a long tail and a spout terminating with the head of bearded man. Again, it’s a whole vibe. (Estimate: $6,000 – $10,000.)

One sobering fact: the provenance of this piece is listed below, and many of the other items in these auctions state something similar, adding an additional layer to their stories.

Provenance
Baron Alphonse de Rothschild (1827-1905).
Baron Édouard de Rothschild (1868-1949).
Confiscated from the above by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg following the Nazi occupation of France in May 1940 (ERR no. R 4082).
Recovered by the Monuments Fine Arts and Archives Section from the Altaussee salt mines, Austria, and transferred to the Munich Central Collecting Point, 23 June 1945 (MCCP no. 391/4).
Returned to France on 9 January 1946 and restituted to the Rothschild family.
By descent to the present owners.

There’s an online Master Discoveries auction currently running at Sotheby’s New York (closing on October 6th), and it’s mostly European painting and sculpture from the 16th-19th centuries. There’s lot of delightful stuff in there — somebody’s little white dog, genre paintings like this one of a proud dentist, and this tiny little 16th century oil on copper Witches Sabbath, complete with fun monsters and an owl chomping on a sparkler. I’m also beguiled by the perfect range of expressions (and the COLOR, my god, the color) in this depiction of a Spanish wine tasting by Jean Georges Vibert. All that aside, I mainly want to take note of the above 1887 oil on canvas, entitled The Spirit of Winter (Look Here’s My Boob),1 by Paris Salon painter Pierre-Louis-Marius Poujol. It’s estimated at $20,000 - $40,000.

October 6th is also the date of the Magnificent Jewels auction at Sotheby’s Hong Kong. Alongside all the usual high-end jadeite and diamonds, it includes the incredibly extra Cartier “Amapa Panthère” bangle above, in which a pavé-set diamond panther with onyx spots and emerald eyes cradles a giant 77.48 carat cabochon rubellite. The other half of the bangle features a tiny watch nestled in a thicket of rubellite and emerald beads, and honestly, the watch annoys me. Why is that there? Who needs that? It’s stupid.

Whatever. The whole shebang is set in 18k white gold and estimated at 7,800,000 - 12,000,000 HKD or $996,000 - $1.5 million.

In case you’re wondering, rubellite sounds like it might be ruby — but it’s not, it’s actually tourmaline. It’s not as hard on the Mohs scale as ruby, but it gives you great pink-to-violet color and transparency. I always go for jewelry that looks like candy and apparently I’m not the only one, as Nico Landrigan, president of Verdura, told Jewelry Connoisseur last year that rubellite is the most popular stone in their line of “Candy” rings because it “looks like a Jolly Rancher.”

I was only going to show one of these two bracelets, but the heck with it; I love colored stones and they’re both so stinking pretty. The beautiful 1928 Cartier bracelet above is also included in the Hong Kong sale, and it’s an example of one of Cartier’s most famous jewelry styles: Tutti Frutti, which they debuted in the 1920s. Using Indian gemstones and mimicking traditional Indian jewelry style, Cartier’s designers grouped elaborately carved and cabochon stones into fantastic patterns that are a joyful riot of color. They’re still creating Tutti Frutti pieces today — these cufflinks can be had for a mere $238,000.

The platinum bracelet above is set with carved sapphires, rubies and emeralds and further embellished with emerald and sapphire beads and single-cut and old European-cut diamonds. The central diamond plaque features accents of black enamel. It’s listed as “price upon request,” so don’t even bother asking, you peasant.

I tend not to cover “Antiquities” auctions because the whole market is so shady and I don’t really feel comfortable promoting it. But I’m going to make an exception today, though, because I want to point out this Roman gold ring at Christie’s that dates to around the 3rd century A.D. It’s a great example of a fede ring, which I told you all about a while back. Fede means “faith” in Italian, and the clasped hands motif represents the joining of two hands in betrothal — a symbol that has carried through the centuries and endures today. It’s not often we get to see these early examples, though, so good stuff.

Ok, that’s it for today, friends. Oh, did you see that Freddie Mercury’s teeny tiny mustache comb sold for $186,000? And Diana’s sheep sweater for $1,143,000????? Absolute scenes, as my English friends might say.

I hope you’re all well and looking forward to the spooky season, because god knows I am. This past summer earned a hearty boot in the ass on the way out, and the autumn won’t be any better but at least we’ll have apple cider and 12-foot tall lawn skeletons and PLEASE get your vaccinations. I’ll see you in October.

M xx

I’ve never been a huge Queen fan, but after seeing the types of things Mercury liked to collect, I wish I’d known him. The man truly had the heart and soul of a collector, with interests ranging from cute little cat knickknacks to Fabergé. Sotheby’s London has split his collection into a whole raft of sales in September (with three online ones opening this month), and scrolling through you’ll see glassware by Lalique, Daum and Gallé; artwork by Tissot and Picasso, and an extraordinary collection of 18th and 19th-century Japanese woodblock prints (including this masterpiece by Hiroshige) all jostling up against stage costumes, gold records and handwritten lyric sheets. There’s even a neon telephone. It’s a delight to root through it all.

Jewelry-wise, there’s a fair amount of Cartier and lots of diamonds, but I’m going to highlight a piece that’s lighter on the bling and heavier on the iconic: the coiled silver snake chain bangle above, which practically co-stars in the 1975 music video for Bohemian Rhapsody. (It’s German, with green glass eyes; estimate £7,000 - £9,000, or $9,000 - $12,000.) It will appear in the Freddie Mercury: A World of His Own | The Evening Sale on September 6 in London.

Another fun piece is this late 20th century silver mustache comb from Tiffany & Co., which has a slightly more attainable estimate of £400 - £600, or $510 - $760. It’s included in the online Freddie Mercury: A World of His Own | Crazy Little Things 2 auction opening tomorrow.

I also can’t NOT point out this stunning Fabergé vesta case. I wrote about vesta cases a couple years back, but a lot of you weren’t around then so I’ll catch you up: vesta cases are matchboxes, and they’re named after Vesta, the Roman goddess of the hearth.

The friction matches of the 19th and early 20th centuries were volatile and prone to spontaneously bursting into flame, so these cases (which were usually made of metal) were meant to prevent people from accidentally setting themselves on fire. Because they were used by everyone — regardless of societal rank — a huge range of cases were manufactured all over the world.

This one was clearly made for the 1%. Circa 1890 and hallmarked KF for Fabergé in Cyrillic, it features an apricot-colored agate body with an overlaid cage of swirling, diamond-accented gold iris leaves and flowers. The design of the piece is clearly influenced by Japanese decorative arts, so it’s no surprise that Mercury fell for it, as he was enthralled by all things Japan. This piece is also included in the flagship Evening Sale on September 6, and it’s estimated at £6,000 - £8,000, or $7,650 - $10,200.

Side note: Mercury — like all sensible people — was a cat person, and Sotheby’s has put together a sweet profile of all his various floofs, with pictures.

Additional reading: Did you know that the two women behind the beloved gossip site Go Fug Yourself have a newsletter? Fug Girl Jessica Morgan covered the Freddie Mercury auctions in the Tuesday’s edition of Drinks with Broads — go check it out! One of the things I love about auctions is seeing which items other people choose to highlight, so her enthusiastic coverage is a delight.

Another upcoming sale that’s generating loads of buzz is Fashion Icons, a Sotheby’s New York online auction running from August 31– September 14. The rest of the lots aren’t posted yet, but the headline item is Princess Diana’s iconic “black sheep” sweater.

Diana first wore the sweater to one of Charles’s polo matches just prior to their wedding in 1981, when she was 19 years old. The resulting press coverage launched the fledgling knitwear business of the sweater’s designers, Sally Muir and Joanna Osborne, into the stratosphere. (Their business, Warm and Wonderful, has in recent years resurrected the sweater design and added various collabs, including bags and stationery.)

Diana wore the sweater again a couple of years later — but, technically, that was a different sweater. Sotheby’s notes that not long after that 1981 outing, the designers received a letter from Buckingham Palace “politely explaining that Diana had damaged her much-loved sheep sweater and requested either a repair or replacement. A new sweater was knitted entirely and they received a grateful thank you letter from her private secretary, Oliver Everett.”

The designers always assumed they had either lost or repaired and resold the original sweater during that initial crush of orders, but Osborne recently discovered it safely packed away in a box of bedsheets during an attic clean-out. Inspection of the damaged cuff proved to them (and Sotheby’s authenticators) that it was Diana’s original.

The sweater will be sold together with the two related letters — the initial one requesting a repair, and the follow-up thank you note from the Palace. It’s estimated to sell for $50,000 - $80,000.

These gorgeous white jade hairpins were included in The Victor Shaw Collection of Chinese Jades: Online Part 3 | Jewellery auction last week at Sotheby’s Hong Kong. Dating to the Ming - Qing dynasty (1618 to 1683), the hairpins also feature tiny earpicks at each end. They sold for 48,260 HKD, or $6,175, and I’m floored that such delicate, exquisite pieces have survived intact for so long.

Novelty jewelry was all the rage in late 19th century France, and this shotgun cartridge stick-pin fits the bill. The body of the cartridge is made of lapis lazuli, and the base (or ferrel) is 18k gold with a tiny inset diamond. A number 5 is enameled on the end of the cartridge.

None of that is why I like this piece, though. Look at its original case:

It’s in the shape of a tiny wooden explosives crate! Stamped with the words “EXPLOSIFS” and “DANGEREUX”! Frickin’ adorable. The piece was originally retailed by Hartog, and the interior is marked with their address: 22 Rue de la Paix, Paris.

It’s available from London antique jewelry dealer Max Michelson for £4,250 ($5,407).

This incredible late 19th century diamond and enamel cat's head brooch is by Frederic Boucheron. Ca. 1890 Paris, its fur fans out in lines of rose-cut diamonds, with glass bead eyes and an enameled mouth. It’s an incredible piece, and it very recently disappeared from the site of London dealers S.J. Phillips, so it must have sold. They were asking more than £50,000 ($64,000).

It immediately reminded me of the snarling fox brooch I included in one of my very first editions of Dearest. That one was also sold by S.J. Phillips, so I guess they’re the go to for exquisite little angry animals.

I believe I know a few people who have studied this book extensively, lol.

Ok, obviously this is not a guide to shitposting, but how could I resist? It’s actually a reprint from 1790 of an earlier 1682 book about fishing by Robert Nobbes. In case you were wondering, the fishing version of trolling involves slowly drawing a baited line behind your boat to try to catch a pike. It sounds a bit like “trawling,” but that’s different and refers to the commercial fishing practice of pulling nets through the water.

The book is included (along with a second fishing-related volume in the same lot) in the Doyle Rare Books, Autographs & Maps auction closing on August 15, and carries an estimate of $300 - $500. Worth it for a joke? Maybe, if you know a big enough troll.

That’s it for today, pals. It’s Gentleman’s Friday (to cadge a delightful term from Rusty), so start your powering-down processes and quiet quit the crap out of tomorrow. It’s AUGUST — the important people are off somewhere berating waiters and dreaming up new ways to silo their generational wealth. Take your chance! Do it! Doooooo iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

Bye, M x

Of the two biggies, the Christie’s Magnificent Jewels sale on Tuesday had the more interesting collection of items, at least to me. There were some legit antique diamond pieces, a circa 1900 René Lalique ring (above) featuring a woman’s face in carved glass surrounded by blue enameled poppies, and the iconic ‘Etoile de Mer’ starfish brooch by Salvador Dalí, which was being sold along with his original watercolor drawing.
The biggest ticket item was a pear-shaped brilliant-cut 126.76 carat diamond called the “Light of Peace” that sold for $13.6 million, a portion of which will be donated to USA for UNHCR, a nonprofit organization created in support of the UN Refugee Agency.

My personal favorite from the Christie’s sale was this “Hokusai Wave” brooch by Verdura, which frames a simple seashell in a swirl of sapphires, diamonds and platinum. It’s obviously inspired by Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai’s über famous Under the Wave off Kanagawa woodblock print from around 1830–31.

Verdura — or, rather, Duke Fulco di Verdura — was the fun-loving child of wealthy aristocrats. Born in 1898 in Palermo, his society connections as a young man brought him into contact with Coco Chanel, and he soon left Italy to work for her in Paris. It was there that he discovered a talent for jewelry design, and he created some truly iconic pieces  —  including the two Maltese cross cuff bracelets that Chanel wore constantly. His style was enthusiastic  — big and bold, with bright precious and semiprecious gems and interesting color combinations.

He moved on from Paris to Hollywood in 1934 — where his pieces were snapped up by the likes of Greta Garbo, Marlene Dietrich, and Katherine Hepburn — and then opened a shop on Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue (financed by his buddies Cole Porter and Vincent Astor!), where he also conquered the New York society crowd. He continued designing jewelry for decades, finally selling his business in 1973. (He died in 1978.) The company continues today and is now owned and run by Ward Landrigan, the former head of Sotheby’s US jewelry division, and his son Nico.

Christie’s doesn’t pinpoint a date for this brooch, but the Verdura timeline — which I highly recommend you scroll through for both the jewelry and the old photos — notes that in 1940, “Fulco purchases a collection of sea shells from the American Museum of Natural History in New York and sets them in gold with precious gems, charming New York society, including Millicent Rogers, Tallulah Bankhead and Betsey Whitney.”

It was Sotheby’s turn on Wednesday. Their two big sellers — the 55.22 carat cushion-cut Estrela de FURA ruby and the 10.57 carat Eternal Pink diamond — brought in $35 million EACH. Here’s the Estrela in both rough and finished form:

Mined in Mozambique by FURA Gems in 2022, it started out as a 101 carat rough stone and was cut down to 55.22 carats following “a series of studies to determine optimal weight, shape and cutting orientation” by various gem experts and 3D engineers.

Since the sale, I’ve been seeing rumblings of discontent among gem dealers in private groups about this particular result…some think it was a marketing stunt drummed up to raise the value of Mozambique rubies (as opposed to Burmese, which have traditionally been the ruby ideal) and also boost the FURA name. I have no idea — although it is certainly true that FURA got a TON of publicity out of Sotheby’s for this. But also, gem dealers are often discontented; that’s one of the things I love about them.

I had a whole thing written about the Eternal Pink diamond, but you’ve heard it all before — pink diamonds are super rare/formed by atomic level distress/yada yada yada I’m really tired today. This particular one has more of a purplish tone to it that Christie’s is calling “bubblegum,” but which makes it — at least in my opinion — slightly less attractive than the 11.15 carat Williamson Pink Star, which sold in October for $57.8 million ($24 million more than the Eternal Pink).

Ok, enough. On to my favorite piece from the auction:

Circa 1965, it’s a gold desk clock by David Webb, featuring a ruby-eyed monkey standing atop a cluster of crystals and holding a diamond-studded walnut with an inset dial. It has high-society provenance: First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy was a huge fan of Webb’s work and commissioned him to create special “gifts of state” for important guests of the White House. Other society matrons followed suit, and this piece was one of 36 one-off items created by Webb to be auctioned off at a 1966 charity event sponsored and attended by Kennedy and Wallis Simpson, the poisonous Duchess of Windsor. From there it became part of the collection of Constance Barber Mellon — one of the Mellon Bank Mellons, doncha know.

That’s all fine. I just like it because the monkey looks like it’s two seconds from ripping your face off.

Even better than Magnificent Jewels — the Joanne Woodward & Paul Newman auction is today! It’s at Sotheby’s New York. This is an auction you’ll want to scroll through for the sheer eclecticism of the collection — there are costumes and scripts and other items of their own film memorabilia, as well as pieces they bought together as devoted collectors of Americana.

Above is the actual wedding dress (and heels) worn by Joanne when she married Paul in 1958. It’s a champagne-colored silk crepe, cocktail-length ballet-style dress with fitted bodice, designed by Jax. The matching jacket has a rounded collar and covered buttons. Heels are by C.H. Baker. Estimate is $1,000 - $1,500 USD.

If the late 19th century Aesthetic and Arts and Crafts movements are your sweet spots — as they are mine — you will be RUINED by the Ann and Gordon Getty Collection: Temple of Wings auction at Christie’s New York on Wednesday. Featuring the contents of the Gettys’ Berkeley property (called Temple of Wings), it’s got allllll the big names in turn of the century decorative arts, including textiles by William Morris, ceramics by William de Morgan and paintings by Frederick, Lord Leighton and John William Waterhouse. Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema’s famous 1895 painting A Coign of Vantage is also included, a masterpiece of his highly decorative, decadent style. It carries an estimate of $2,500,000 – $3,500,000; the highest in the sale.1

There’s also a fantastic collection of Tiffany Studios lamps — including the one above, the very rare circa 1900 “Butterfly” table lamp with a “Pepper” base. The lamp is estimated at $300,000 – $500,000, and the lot notes include excerpts from a charming letter written by the lamp’s designer, Clara Driscoll, who was head of the Tiffany Girls (a.k.a. the women’s glass-cutting department). In the letter, she tells her family about the evolution of her design:

“I described this to Mr. Tiffany while he was in Mr. Mitchell’s office sitting in front of the electric fan in Mr. Mitchell’s chair, waiting for him to come in, and looking as if life were a burden that he could not support much longer. But then he heard about the primroses, he braced up at once, seized a pencil and began to make pictures all over Mr. Mitchell’s clean blotter — talking to himself and to me, while the fan made his thick curls stand up around his bearded brow like a halo, after his fashion — “The lamp mutht be tall and thlim” (the words tall and slim being unnaturally lengthened while he drew long up and down lines to illustrate) “like the flowerth, and the shade — ” but every time he came to that he wavered off into such vague lines that you could scarcely distinguish them from the gray of the blotter, and then he would say — “well, work out your own idea — ” This is all very pleasant but the next thing is, to do it. I am so afraid I can’t rise to what will now be expected of me.”

I think she did ok.

If you would like to further torture yourself, there are two additional online Ann & Gordon Getty auctions: Aesthetic Decoration from Temple of Wings and Early Modern Design from Temple of Wings. Fair warning for my readers with a flair for drama: there are Fortuny evening capes in that second one.

There are some wonderful antique jewels in the Christie’s Jewels Online: The London Edit auction closing on Thursday, including this gorgeous Belle Epoque ruby and diamond brooch/plaque-de-cou. Circa 1900, it features old and rose-cut diamonds and circular cut rubies designed to resemble a cascade of fuchsias.

A plaque-de-cou, as I’ve mentioned in the past, is an ornament meant to be worn on a collier de chien, or dog collar-style necklace. This one is particularly large, so one would need to possess quite the long neck to wear it — click through to the lot to see it on a model.

One final note: I only found out about this exhibition late last week and immediately called to order the catalog since I can’t make it over there in time, BUT if you’re in England and can hop on a train to Salisbury, there’s a phenomenal exhibition opening this week at Woolley & Wallis: Robert Wallace Martin: Potter, Sculptor, Artist - An Exhibition. The exhibit celebrates the work of Robert Wallace — the eldest Martin brother and driving force behind their art pottery — and it features an extraordinary collection of his early historical vases, clocks, grotesques, face jugs and, of course, those famous Wally Birds. It’s free and runs from tomorrow to Thursday, June 22nd, so if you want to see it in person, you better get your skates on.

For those of us who can’t be there, Woolley & Wallis have posted a flipbook of the catalog. Check it out; the creatures within are almost certain to bring you joy.

Time to wrap things up, as I’m being visited by the Red Band of Email Length Limit again. I hope you all have a wonderful week free of apocalyptic weather events and marauding orcas. Drop me a line and say hi!

Ciao, M xx