In another life, I worked for one of the major auction houses in New York City. Now, your first thought may be that you didn’t realize I had an art history degree (I don’t) or was a descendant of minor royalty (I’m not). I was only there to help with the sale display—the auction house’s answer to Vanna White. In other words, my actual job was to stand at a jewelry counter, or next to a piece of furniture, or alongside a folder of Japanese prints -and show them to anyone who was interested in looking. I folded over chairs that turned into library stairs for admiring collectors of early American furniture. I handed over Georg Jensen silver pitchers encrusted with tiny silver grapes and apricot-sized Japanese snuff bottles to eager collectors who held them up and turned them over with relish. I didn’t really consider what I was doing to be work, because I was thrilled to be there.  It was like a dream to be able to get so close to touching (and sometimes actually touching) some of the greatest decorative art, jewelry and furniture I have ever seen. Don’t judge me. Once, I got real close to not one but two Hokusai wave prints (yes, that famous Japanese wave print). My husband has one on his Godzilla shirt. Don’t judge him.

I loved my experiences there, but as I look back on it, the most fascinating came from a social studies perspective. Wikipedia says that social proof is a psychological and social phenomenon where people assume the actions of others in an attempt to reflect correct behavior in a given situation. At the auction house, sometimes people made judgments based on their perception of my social position, and then behaved in ways that it appeared they felt I would expect or would show me that they belonged. But they were wrong.

There I was- a graduate student, getting paid about eight bucks an hour to show stuff to people who wandered in for the auction house’s viewings. I was sharing a walkup apartment in a grimy neighborhood with a roommate. I took the subway to get to my job.  But nobody assumed any of that when they saw me.  Many of these people appeared to be intimidated by me, or really, the idea of a wealthy and socially connected version of me as viewed through the lens of the auction house.  People assumed things about me they would not have assumed had they not seen me handling a 10-carat diamond ring behind a fancy counter.

For example, one time when I was doing the jewelry show, I remember helping a smartly dressed gal look at some rings. She asked to look at a 5-carat diamond. While she was trying it on, she explained to me that her husband had promised her an upgraded ring when she had a second child, and she had just achieved that milestone. There is a level of insecurity that is palpably on display when a customer is trying to explain to the ring fetcher at the counter (me) how she may have come into a position to be able to buy the item she is looking at.

I learned from this experience that people will assume things about someone who works in a swanky place, even though the truth is that they are usually just trying to make ends meet like everyone else. Generally, when you enter a fancy store, the employees are not judging you and trying to figure out if you can afford to be there. They are just working stiffs dressed up to convey an image controlled by their employer. There are probably exceptions to this rule—but I have been served well by not making assumptions.

Much later, a friend of mine was getting married in Las Vegas. There were a lot of family members who had come for the wedding of varying incomes and wealth—and some had barely made it (and probably should not have come). We were staying with the bridal party at a very expensive hotel- unlike the poorer relations who were downtown at the old timey casinos with the cheaper rooms. When it came time for dinner, my friend wanted everyone to be able to go get a meal together, but the discussion of where to go was fraught with anxiety over who would be able to afford to go where. So we went down to the very fancy concierge station that employed what appeared to be a small army of snooty models just waiting to be discovered. My friend was very reluctant to ask about where we could go that was cheap. We were in a super fancy place and the expectation, while unspoken, appeared to be that people staying here would be asking about going somewhere elegant and expensive- not cheap.  So I stepped up and asked the ice princessey looking gal at the counter where I could go in Vegas with a lot of people without a lot of money that could be family style and fun (and cheap!) – and watched her instantly melt. That gal behind the counter recommended her family’s favorite place- a homestyle Italian joint that ended up being the perfect place for everyone to relax and have fun without making anyone feel like they couldn’t afford the meal.

So the first lesson from the auction house is: social proof is real and it is powerful. Try not to make assumptions based on social proof. Everybody does it- because it’s easier to make a snap decision based only on perceptions. We are wired to make these quick decisions. Understanding that fact allows you to hold an advantage. If you don’t make assumptions based on social proof and don’t project your expectations, your insecurities, or your feelings of inadequacy onto anyone else- whether you’re in a fancy restaurant or anywhere else- you will find doors opening. If you can approach others as if they are not clothed in the social trappings that you may be assuming (even if you are right)- and just be yourself, you may find a new restaurant, a great business opportunity, or a new friend.

Now, on to the second lesson from the auction house.

During one of the jewelry sales, I tried on a million-dollar diamond ring. It was a 10-carat rectangular cut, with almost perfect clarity. To me, the ring had the appearance of Swarovski crystal- which, while lovely, is not worth a million bucks. Not interested. In another sale, I got to handle the Steiglitz hands photo. It was absolutely breathtaking to see so close-there’s a reason why that image is iconic. I also got very close to one of the last remaining full Audubon folio books, with its vividly colored large birds staring out defiantly in all their beauty.

Handling all of those expensive, sometimes verging on priceless, items, I learned that the price of an object does not necessarily reflect its intrinsic worth. The diamond ring, while worth a million bucks in real life, looked like a fifty-dollar piece of crystal to me. More importantly, I learned that the converse was also true, which is that the intrinsic worth of art is not its price. The value of art is truly the image itself- the price is almost meaningless. Taking that truism gets us to the next logical step, which is that you can buy a licensed knockoff for almost nothing, but the enjoyment it provides can give you almost everything the original could have provided. This is most true of art prints. It’s less true of anything that is made cheaply. But there are particular items that I believe provide all the pleasure of the original for a bargain basement price.

As a general matter, I am against acquiring a lot of stuff- so I am not recommending that you buy anything that you don’t have a place for. And also- if you don’t care for art, that is okay. Don’t buy it- go for super spare walls and Zenlike simplicity. There is something to be said for that aesthetic. But if you are like me, you appreciate the beauty of decorative art- and sometimes you see an image that moves you. You feel something quiver in your spirit when you see such beauty. If that’s how you feel, then I highly recommend you buy maybe one or two licensed prints of something that you find arrestingly, hauntingly beautiful and put it on a wall in your house to inspire you.

I have bought art prints of Audubon birds for twenty-five bucks that, frankly, look as good to me as the originals I once was privileged to see up close at the auction house. They gave me great pleasure every time I looked over at them on the wall, just as much as those originals did so many years ago. Also- it’s still possible to buy original vintage or antique prints cheaply- check out Ebay or the internet—or even find modern art by struggling new artists that is affordable. The trick is to find something that inspires you- and give it space.

So the second lesson from the auction house is, you can make the most beautiful iconic art part of your everyday life, taking all the value of the images that inspire you, without the cost of the original. It’s an amazing world we live in where all of the greatest thoughts, images, and music are so widely available for so little cost. Take advantage of all this opportunity to surround yourself with beauty and inspire yourself every time you look around.