Because At House of Sons, we don’t list things —

we honor what’s passed through.

Every item consigned to the House has carried weight:

in story, in time, in silence.

We’ve auctioned vintage Rolexes with dials that have aged like paintings —

each tick a memory, each scratch a record of where it’s been.

We’ve moved furniture crafted by hand and worn by life —

oak and iron, leather and linen, pieces that made the room rather than filled it.

We’ve sold sports memorabilia not for who signed it, but for what it captured —

a glove, a jersey, a ticket stub from a night that mattered.

Each lot is not just valued.

It is remembered, written about, and sent on.

We don’t accept everything.

But if you’re holding something with depth —

something that should go on living, in someone else’s world —

we want to speak.

Consignment begins with a voice, not a button.

Leave your name. We’ll call you.