In the late 1980’s, I worked for several years in the sales office during the Saratoga sales. In those days before computers were widely used, I painstakingly recorded the details of each sale in a ledger: hip number, consigner, buyer, sales price. I lived in fear of making a mistake.

That anxiety aside, it was a heady time. Horses sold for astronomical sums, and expensive Champagne poured into the wee hours after the final gavel fell. My youthful eyes were dazzled.

That smmer job ended when year-round gainful employment began, and I was away from the sales for more than two decades, coming back in the summer of 2008.

It was something of a shock.

Continue reading at the Saratogian… (originally published in 2011)

This article grew up from a 2008 post about representations of class at the sales.