The only labels you will need in the antiques trade are on your stock
Walk into any antiques fair, dusty shop, or Sunday flea market and you’ll see it: the great leveller that is our trade. One minute you're chatting to a tweed-clad collector of 17th-century oak coffers, the next you're haggling with a teenager who's just fallen in love with a lava lamp. There’s no dress code, no password, and no velvet rope. If you’ve got a passion for the past, you’re in.
And here’s the beauty of it: we don’t care where you’re from, what your label says, or if it says anything at all.
You could be a purple, dyslexic space traveller from Pluto—if you’ve got a good eye for a Windsor chair or a decent sense of humour about Bakelite, you're one of us.
The antiques world isn’t about exclusion, it’s about curiosity. We welcome the unconventional, the curious, the eccentric, and the downright odd. In fact, we thrive on it. Our stockrooms are full of the misfits of history—items that don’t quite fit in the modern world but tell wonderful stories all the same. Why should people be any different?
We don’t care if you know your Art Deco from your Art Nouveau, or if you’ve confused a chamber pot with a sugar bowl (happens more than you'd think). You’re welcome. Learn as you go, ask daft questions, get it wrong, laugh, get it right, fall in love with it.
Inclusivity in our trade isn’t a policy—it’s just how we operate. We’re here for the passion, the stories, the magic of finding something that speaks to you.
So no, we don’t need labels. Not on people, anyway. Save the labels for the Georgian tea caddy.
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