ONE THAT GOT AWAY | Murano glass lamps and lessons learned.

My dining room this morning.

I’ve been meaning to start this series for awhile — posts about pieces that got away. I feel like this is a subject that resonates with resellers in particular. We all know that burning regret, right? Not just about the pieces we didn’t buy when we had the chance (non-buyers remorse — a common enough feeling), but about the pieces we deeply regret selling, or that we sold for way too little.

Live and learn, right? Sure, but I sort of jumped into reselling in 2011 or so without much prep. It was a low-key side hustle. It’s not the jumping I regret — I think in most professions you learn best by doing, and that’s as true for reselling as it is for any other gig — it’s the errors I made along the way.

Mistakes were made, my friends. Big mistakes. Huge.

I already mentioned how much I regret not saving my grandparents’ incredible  Beni Ourain. But to be fair, that wasn’t really my fault. Here’s one that IS my fault: I sold a pair of that same grandmother’s 1960s Murano glass lamps for like, $75.

What. On. Earth. Was. I. Thinking?!

I wasn’t. I wasn’t thinking! A newly minted reseller, I just didn’t know what I was doing. All I wanted was to make sales. And I was impatient, and loathe to do research. Uuuuuugh. I regret it. I regret it so much.

Pink swirled Murano glass lamps from the 1960s.

Here are the lamps in question. I mean, they were AMAZING, right!? But at the time, I couldn’t see it. They’d been on the fringes of my life for way too long. They’d lived for decades at my parents’ cottage, where they were horribly neglected and out-of-place against the pine panelled walls, with too-large moth-eaten pleated shades, and dead gnats chilling out around their bases.

Everyone in my family thought they were “ugly”. My mom complained about them a lot. She was delighted to give them to me just to get them out of her sight. I appreciated them enough to know they were worth selling, but not enough. Not nearly enough. They seemed horribly granny.  I couldn’t imagine ever finding a place for them in my life.

This was before I learned how easy it was to rewire a lamp. And before my obsession with hoarding shades and harps. It was before I knew, well … anything, really.

I had no idea how valuable Murano glass lamps like this really were and are.

Do you realize Sotheby’s Home has a pair of “Murano style” glass lamps listed for sale right now for more than $3000? And there’s a pair of very similar pink ones for sale on 1stDibs for $2500 (on sale, down from $3250). Chairish has one pair for the bargain basement price of just $1050.

These are all comparable to the ones I had, all in similar condition, and all from the same decade.

No big deal. This pair of pink Murano glass lamps from a Chairish seller is currently $5500, down from $6500.

And I sold my pair for $75.

Now I have to admit, as much as I have learned since I made this error, and as much as I’ve come to love (and hoard) lamps, I have never managed to sell a pair for the kind of exorbitant prices just mentioned. I’ve briefly attempted it. I’ve listed a few really (ostensibly) valuable lamps for big bucks, but received nary a nibble. Make of that what you will. I think I’m just not pedigreed enough as a seller. Sotheby’s and friends sell their pairs all the dang time. Still, this is all neither here nor there.

The truth is that I’ve really come into my sense of personal style since my early days as a blogger and seller. I know what I like and more importantly, what I AM like. And I despise trends. These days, I would rock those pink lamps in my own place and wouldn’t even consider selling them. But if I were to list them, I’d definitely be asking a lot more than $75.

Venetian glass (and Murano glass in particular) has been made for hundreds upon hundreds of years.

If you’ve ever been to Venice and seen glassmakers at work (and I have) you appreciate in rather a different way how special it is. And sure, contemporary Venice is a tourist trap, so it’s all a bit of a show, but still. Glassmaking is still an incredible thing.

When trying to identify if an item is real, mouth-blown glass, a pair of lamps is actually one of the easiest things to work with because what you’ll notice right away is that no pair is identical. Contemporary, factory-made pieces come in perfect pairs. True vintage, handmade glass has quirks. With two to compare, variations are easily highlighted.

Today, I feel lucky. Despite my mistake in selling my Grandmother’s lamps all those years ago, the thrift gods smiled upon me and not all that long ago I found an incredible pair of the palest pink Murano glass lamps, also 1960s, in original and untouched condition for an absolute song. (Don’t hate me, but I only paid $5 a piece.)

This weekend I cleaned them up, fully dismantling them to attempt to remove some of the dust that had clouded the interiors over the course of the last 60 years. (Weird thing I’ve noticed having dismantled many lamps over the years: glass and crystal lamps that have a central tube of plastic covering the metal rod in the centre will STINK when you take them apart. It’s a horrible smell. I believe it is the scent of the slowly-disintegrating plastic part, a bit like offgassing. A quick wash and air out will solve it.)

This pair, also from a Chairish seller, is $2800.

The glass bases of my new/old Murano lamps are extremely heavy and wonderfully detailed. They’re much paler than my old pair, more clear, with silvery mica sparkles throughout. The openings, top and bottom, are completely different sizes, and the globes have different weights and depths. Differently sized brass finishing hardware pieces are used on each lamp, to accommodate the differences in the size of the mouth-blown glass parts. They’re amazing lamps and I couldn’t be more delighted with them.

And I’ve learned my lesson. This time I’m not selling. (Well. Not for $75, that’s for sure. And not any time soon. SORRY.)

Anyway! That’s my first tale of one that got away. I have many more to share with you in the future, and most of these stories don’t have a “but don’t worry because I found a replacement” ending. Mostly they end with me crying with regret about what a doofus I’ve been. So, something to look forward to, eh?

I am guilty of so many (so very very many) heinous crimes against furniture and in decor. For example, I was once a liberal spray-painter. I threw away original hardware. As already said, mistakes were made, and I destroyed so many wonderful original pieces with my “upcycling” antics. I also gave away or tossed many items I now realize are super valuable. I didn’t know any better. As this series continues, may you learn from my mistakes. It’s the least I can do.

Read more in the Ones That Got Away series here.

As I work to get products up for sale on my own site, interested buyers should feel free to shop Will and Bequeath on Etsy and Will and Bequeath on Poshmark. These platforms take a large percentage of the sale price, and charge various other feels to sellers as well. In the future, I hope to have all my stock available on my own site, but until then…

Read all the posts in the Will & Bequeath blog tag here.