A Marketplace For What A Home Has Finished With
Make Space. Make Somebody's Day.
Point your camera at the chair in the spare room, the one you moved twice and never sat in again, and the words come back already written — what it is, where it belongs, the wear it honestly carries. Somebody three suburbs away has been looking for exactly that.
The Atelier is reading it
What it is
Where it belongs
Condition, as we can see it
Why Here
You have carried it around for a year. This part takes a minute.
- 01You never describe itOne photograph, and every word of it is yours to change
- 02Paid before they knockThe person at your door is already the person who bought it
- 03Your street stays yoursA listing carries a suburb, and your street reaches one person
- 04You set the numberWhat you ask is what you get, and nobody opens at half
- 05The money waits with usUntil it is actually in their hands, and yours the same evening
- 06Shown the way it deservesLit, written up, and found by whoever wanted exactly it
10%
What It Costs
The hour it sells, and never before. It stays listed however long it waits and costs nothing while it does. Your money lands in your own account, passing through nobody.
List five before Christmas and you hold 8 per cent for two years rather than 10.
A chair that held ten years of Sunday papers is not finished with. A guitar that taught somebody three chords has a second person waiting somewhere for it. A board that did one good summer has a great many summers left in it.
What leaves your house tonight goes on into somebody else's, and keeps going.
Find your next thing.
Or wander in —
Open Your Gate For One Morning.
It’s the modern day garage sale, except no one arrives early.
Open Your Place See What Is Open Near You Or A Whole Street, Together