Then comes the climb. Promotions. Liquidity. A little less guilt when you click “Add to Cart.” With that, the toys get bigger. A Datejust turns into a Royal Oak. A bourbon shelf turns into a climate-controlled cellar. But the real tell isn’t what you buy — it’s what you start to chase. That’s when the majors and minors reveal themselves.
At WAX, we talk about this a lot. Majors are the grails — the pieces you obsess over, research at 2:00 a.m., and pray don’t show up on your spouse’s Amex statement. Minors are the flirtations. The “just for fun” additions that come and go like seasonal flings. Everyone’s mix is different, but the cadence is almost always the same.
And yet, there’s one universal truth no collector escapes: Eventually, you will sell.
This makes some folks squirm. Selling feels sacrilegious — like you’re betraying your past self. But here’s the funny part: across the WAX platform, our users sell an average of three to four times per year. It’s not a mass exodus — it’s a portfolio rebalance. People let go to evolve. They refine. They recalibrate. But before that happens? They deny it like someone hiding a hangover at a PTA meeting.
Take one of our long-standing WAX clients — we’ll call him “G.” Guy has a phenomenal collection. He’s got range, taste, and the swagger to back it up. Recently, G called us looking to liquidate a dozen watches. Pressure from the Mrs., the classic “no more watches until you clean out the safe” moment. We helped him explore a few resale strategies — private dealers, auctions, our internal concierge network. The offers were solid. He was ready to go.
Then, like fate had a sense of humor, a grail appeared. The kind of grail that makes grown men lie to themselves. It was at auction. The timing was cosmic. The logic was bulletproof — sell a few pieces, cover the new one, keep the collection net neutral.
And so, G swung for the fences. He bid. He won. He sent us a note saying, “Add her to the policy. She's finally mine.”
Three days later?
Another note.
“I can’t sell them. Not yet.”
Logic? Out the window. Emotion? Fully in the driver’s seat.
Now, I love this story — not just because it’s hilariously relatable — but because it’s predictably human. In fact, I’ve personally seen this exact movie play out with five different collectors over the last two years alone. Same setup. Same plot twist. Same delayed liquidation. Each time, they tried to hold onto everything. And every single one of them eventually sold something. They had to. Because collecting isn’t static. It evolves. You evolve. The grails don’t stop coming just because your safe is full.
We’re in a fortunate position — collectors come to us daily like we’re their trusted counsel. And we take that role seriously. Whether it’s advising on how to streamline a collection, debating whether to part with a longtime piece, or chasing a grail through our network, we’re in the thick of it with them. And when that next acquisition finally lands? We’re there to protect it like it’s already legendary.
The data doesn’t lie. We’ve tracked 4x more collection churn among users who insure eight or more assets compared to one or two-piece holders. These collectors aren't bailing. They’re sharpening their focus. Call it spring cleaning for the sophisticated.
Look — I get it. Some pieces hold stories. Some were gifts. Some mark moments. Hell, I personally have at least 3 watches i'll never sell. But part of being a collector isn’t just acquiring. It’s editing. It’s curating. It’s knowing when a chapter ends so another can begin.
So to G — and the rest of you hanging onto pieces “just a little longer” — take your time. Denial’s part of the ritual. But sooner or later, the safe gets full… and something’s gotta go.
