In a cozy, somewhat pretentious corner of Cheviot Hills, Los Angeles, Amy Byer dons her white leather gloves and a dazzling gold 1960s robe to tickle the ivories. The mid-century artwork adorning the walls screams, “Yes, I have taste! And yes, my estate sale is more important than your life!” Meanwhile, the kitchen hosts stacks of antique china, the kind no one dares use—because who doesn’t want to keep their wedges of Hallmark-appropriate decor pristine?
Welcome to the glamorous world of Handled Estates, founded by our avant-garde entrepreneur, Amy Byer. This luxurious estate sale service is an Instagram-sensation template; it tactfully packages and markets the eclectic contents of high-end homes across California. Nestled within the shiny bubble of glitz, sales reveal a peek into the gilded lives of the wealthy—where opulence meets desperation for bargain-hunters. But let’s not kid ourselves: it’s just as much about finding treasures as it is about making the rest of us feel like our lives are stuck in the clearance aisle of a thrift store.
Speaking of treasure hunts, one can hardly ignore the spectacle happening in New York this Wednesday—Joan Didion’s estate sale, where a cornucopia of items ranging from her beloved Celine tortoiseshell sunglasses to a contemporary Dutch oven are up for grabs. Bidders are cordially invited to join the insanity, where the Le Creuset set is pulling in bids of $8,000. And those sunglasses? Well, they’re practically a small fortune at $27,000. If only nostalgia paid the bills, right?
Estate sales are hot right now—especially if you happen to be rich or famous. Sheryl Crow opened her Nashville home last August for public viewing, flaunting some utterly bizarre finds like antique rocking horses and a clown painting. Meanwhile, Pharrell Williams unleashed 52 of his most ridiculous possessions on the world with his new auction platform, Jupiter. Think diamond-encrusted chains to level-up your grocery run, and a custom 18-carat gold-encased BlackBerry; because clearly, who needs a functional phone when you can have one that doubles as a paperweight?
Bidding wars at Julien’s Auctions are seeing Elvis Presley’s flamboyant 1972 gold and diamond watch snatch $256,000 while John Lennon’s once-hip glasses fetched a cool $162,500. For those with a taste for haute couture, you missed the opportunity of a lifetime earlier this year—the wardrobe of the late Franca Sozzani, former Italian Vogue editor, was up for grabs but went faster than you can say “bueno.” Her high-end dresses and a Python Miu Miu coat would send any vintage lover into a tailspin of joy, and likely financial ruin.
Across the pond, the UK has caught the estate sale fever as well. Antique dealers are sniffing out precious memorabilia that rivals your grandma’s collection of porcelain kittens. Millennials like Quinn Garvey are documenting their treasure-find exploits on TikTok, where video clips of rummaging through deceased millionaires’ belongings rack up views that would make any influencer weep with jealousy. Quinn enthuses about discovering an etching by Renoir next to a kitchen full of beagle-themed calendars; it’s like a reality show waiting to happen. What will they find next? The secret to eternal youth?
The excitement of estate sales rests on the thrill, and yes, the emotional toll—after all, they typically occur under the shadow of death. “It’s all fun and games until someone starts crying,” admits Macy Harris, a relentless estate sale devotee. She shares her own experience of practically sprinting away with vintage coats amidst a family squabble about who should inherit what. Apparently, fighting over someone’s legacy is the new black.
For Amy Byer, this space between grief and financial gain is complicated yet lucrative. Estate sale companies typically pocket 20% to 50% of the sales, which means relatives can breathe a little easier while stalking the high-stakes auction ground. Someday, you might find a former loved one’s mug out there too—for just a fiver—while some might feel the agony of seeing cherished items sold to the highest bidder. “There’s nothing sad about it,” Byer insists. “It’s a grand finale! A chance to celebrate someone’s life.” Sure, if by “celebrate” you mean sell their memory so you can buy your next avocado toast.
