TROVE

I'm Gabe. I got my first coin when I was 5 — my grandfather had a drawer full of old pennies and I couldn't stop looking at them. By college I was dealing antiques. By 25 I was traveling to shows, building relationships with collectors three times my age, learning everything I could.

I'm young by antique dealer standards, and that's kind of the point.

Here's what I've noticed: the people who know the most about these objects — the ones who can date a piece by its glaze, spot a fake across the room, tell you the history behind every mark — they're getting older. And the next generation doesn't even know this world exists.

But when they discover it, they love it. Every single time. A friend comes to a show with me, sees a 4,000-year-old jar that costs less than their couch, and something clicks. They want to know more. They want to find one.

The problem is there's no good way in. The knowledge is tribal — in people's heads, passed down at shows and over dinner, not written anywhere. The objects are scattered across dozens of platforms, buried in noise. The communities live in Facebook groups that ban selling and lose every image.

I started Trove because I believe the culture of collecting is worth growing. These objects connect us to our past. The people who care for them are custodians of knowledge that shouldn't be lost. And there are so many people out there who would love this world — they just haven't found the door yet.

This newsletter is that door.