Antiques Roadshow’s Most Beautiful Brooches With Jaw-Dropping Values!

I found this at a country auction. My husband and I were shopping for furniture for our home that we had just built, and I spied this beautiful brooch, and I told my husband that I would like to have it. He said, no, we're here for furniture. I don't believe we're going to buy jewelry today. But I prevailed, and he decided, yes, we would stay and see what it would go for. And I got it. Created around 1945 by Van Cleef and Arpels, the piece reflects post-war Parisian design at its most assertive. This is not a delicate pin meant to disappear into fabric. It's a double-prong fur clip engineered to grip heavy materials and sit proudly on coats, lapels, or evening wear. That functionality shaped the design language. Strong lines, sculptural form, and richly do the heavy lifting. Set in 18-karat yellow gold, the brooch features cushion-cut Ceylon sapphires with that unmistakable cornflower blue. Clear, luminous, and highly prized, their color is cool and composed, perfectly balanced by the warmth of Burmese rubies, which introduce intensity without overwhelming the composition. What makes this piece especially important is its origin. French-made Van Cleef and Arpels jewelry from this era carries a level of desirability that later or overseas production simply can't replicate. These designs were so influential that they became templates for imitation, copied endlessly in costume jewelry, yet never truly matched. So what did you end up paying for the pin? It was around $1,200. And when was this? This was 1971 or 72. The retail value of this piece in today's market is $35,000. Oh, Rosie, that's great. I'm so, I'm delighted. Thank you. Thank you. Harry Bottori made those pins, and I think there were some of the very first that he made. My sister worked in the dorms where he stayed at Cranbrook. He gave her one, and then he knew that she had two sisters, so three of us got the brooches, and I have those two. Do you remember about what year this was that you received them? Oh, dear. I must have been in my teens. I bet it must have been about 16 years old. Okay. Late 30s, I would say so. Made in 1939 by Harry Bertoia, these silver brooches belonged to the very beginning of his career, before his name became synonymous with iconic wire furniture and monumental sculpture. At this stage, Bertoia was working almost entirely by hand, exploring metal as a living material rather than something to be perfected or concealed. The construction tells that story immediately. There is no solder. Every element is held together through rivets, pins, tension, and balance. That choice wasn't technical necessity. It was philosophy. The forged wire, spiral motifs, and open forms emphasize structure over surface, an approach that would later define his most celebrated works. These brooches aren't decorative in the traditional sense. They are wearable studies in line, rhythm, and negative space. This period of jewelry making was brief. Bertoia produced metal jewelry for only a few years, largely during his time at Cranbrook, before World War II changed everything. Metal rationing shut down studios, and his focus shifted to graphic design and eventually sculpture. Because of that, authentic early jewelry pieces are exceptionally rare, especially unsigned examples with clear provenance. That provenance is critical. Without it, these brooches could easily be misunderstood, mistaken for handmade craft rather than foundational modernist design. But when placed in the context of Bertoia's broader body of work, they become essential artifacts, showing the origins of ideas that later reshaped 20th century design. If these were to come up in an auction house that has maybe modernist furniture, Bertoia's sculpture, these as an addition to a Bertoia collection, each of these pieces alone would bring somewhere between $20,000 to $30,000. So we have a total of $40,000 to $60,000 as an auction estimate. And now that you said there's a third one out there, I would probably say it's around the same value as well. It's how rare these are, how collectible. Well, hallelujah. It was worth the trip. It was so nice meeting you, Peter. Likewise, I can't believe that these came in and such a wonderful story. I really appreciate your sharing that with us, Rose. Well, hallelujah. Well, it was my grandmother's pin given to my mother, and then my mother gave it to me. Sad to say, I don't know where my grandmother got it. If her husband gave it to her for an important birthday or anniversary or a gift from her father, I have no idea. She gave it to me at age 94. She said she wasn't wearing it that much, so she said I could have it. My mother said my grandmother was always so sweet and let her wear her jewelry, and she wore it when she was in college. She went to a dance and had it on and lost the pin at the dance. I don't know if she was doing the Charleston or what, but she lost it. And then her aunt Florence was there, and she went to her and said, I've lost the pin. She said, what? You've lost your grandmother's diamond pin? Anyway, so. No more jewelry for you. Yeah, but anyway, they found it at the dance. Thank heavens. Created around 1930, the piece is a textbook example of art deco design at its strongest. Everything about it is precise. The entire brooch is constructed in pierced platinum, allowing light to move freely through the design rather than sitting heavily on the surface. That openness is a defining deco trait. Clean geometry paired with technical sophistication. At the center sits an old European cut diamond weighing just over one carat. It's bright, lively, and perfectly proportioned for the setting. Rather than overpowering the design, it anchors it. Surrounding diamonds graduate outward in a disciplined rhythm, reinforcing symmetry and flow. Altogether, the brooch carries approximately four and a half carats of diamonds, but nothing about it feels excessive. The sparkle is controlled, intentional, and elegant. The craftsmanship here is entirely hand done. The platinum framework is delicate but strong, shaped to hold the stone securely while remaining visually light. That level of work places this brooch firmly in the upper tier of American-made jewelry from the period. While the piece isn't signed, its original box tells an important part of the story. It comes from Myron Freeman and Brothers, a respected jewelry firm operating during the height of the Art Deco era. Original presentation like this adds context and credibility even when a maker's signature is absent. What makes this brooch especially compelling is how well it represents its time. Art Deco jewelry celebrated progress, precision, and modernity, and this piece delivers all three without sacrificing warmth or wearability. It was meant to be worn, danced in, and enjoyed, not locked away. And at auction today, I would give it a conservative estimate somewhere in the neighborhood of $6,500 to $8,500. Wow, that's nice to know, although as I said, I have no intents of selling it because I love the family history with it. It's pinned in the shape of a butterfly. I was asked by a friend to go to an estate sale. The estate was from a prominent family in our area, and there were quite a few higher-end, nicer items, and I was able to purchase this at the auction. I bought it for my wife, and that's 2015. Shaped as a butterfly, it reflects late Victorian taste, when nature-inspired forms carried meaning far beyond decoration. At the center of the design is opal, chosen for movement rather than uniformity. As the light shifts, flashes of color ripple across its surface. Greens, blues, and fiery reds that seem to appear and disappear at will. Opal's appeal has always rested in that unpredictability. It was treasured by ancient cultures for its perceived mysticism, and later embraced by Victorian jewelers who loved stones that suggested transformation and wonder. The butterfly form reinforces that idea perfectly. Change, rebirth, and freedom rendered in gold and light. Ruby cabochons form the eyes, adding warmth and intensity, while a single old European cut diamond anchors the design with a crisp point of brilliance. The stones are all natural, an important detail for collectors. Especially in a period when early synthetics were already beginning to appear, the construction supports the artistry. The brooch is made in 18-carat yellow gold, with areas of darkened silver used intentionally to create contrast and depth across the wings. Dating to the late 19th century, likely around 1890, this brooch sits comfortably within the golden age of insect jewelry, when craftsmanship and symbolism mattered as much as gemstones. Should I ask you what you paid for it? There's some debate between my wife and I. I believe that I paid a little over $500. She thinks closer to $1,000, so we'll say she's right. I'll say $1,000. I'm going to go with $750. $750. Somewhere in the middle. In my opinion, it's like $750 per wing. Easy. Okay. Okay. Wonderful. I'm going to go with, at auction, $3,000 to $5,000 today. Great. Wonderful. Excellent. Thank you. Thank you very much. My grandfather was an industrialist in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and he would purchase from auctions and different jewelers in the Pittsburgh area, items from estates. So this pin has been in our family for three generations, and my grandmother used to wear it for fundraisers and different things in Pittsburgh. There was the diamond horseshoe ball and different things like that. But this is the story behind it, that it was purchased from the Lillian Russell estate, who was an opera singer in the 1800s. Jim Brady had it made for her because they used to ride horses together. Okay. That's the story. Dating to around 1900, the piece sits right at the turn of the century, when jewelry balanced sentiment with spectacle. Horseshoes were widely worn as symbols of luck, protection, and prosperity. But they were usually small, discreet accents. This example takes the idea to an entirely different level. The scale alone sets it apart. It isn't subtle, and it was never meant to be. The construction reveals its quality immediately. The front is platinum topped, allowing the diamonds to sit bright and cool, while the reverse is crafted in 14-karat yellow gold, providing warmth and strength. This combination was typical of high-end jewelry at the time, especially in America, where platinum was prized for its ability to hold diamonds securely while remaining visually light. The diamonds are old European cuts, full of depth and movement, totaling approximately 15 carats. These stones don't give off a sharp, modern flash. They glow, responding beautifully to ambient light. Their size and liveliness elevate the brooch from novelty to serious jewel. Horseshoe brooches appear often in period jewelry, but rarely with this level of diamond weight or presence. This is, quite literally, an abundance of good fortune. Unsigned, it is most likely American-made, reflecting the confidence and prosperity of the era in which it was created. It was designed to be worn at events, fundraisers, and social occasions, exactly where it spent much of its life. Do you have any idea what maybe he would have paid for it? I did find a receipt that, I guess they had to have it appraised for the estate when they passed away, and so it did say $6,000. It's just fantastic. If I were putting this into an auction, I think an auction estimate of $10,000 to $15,000 would be totally appropriate, and I feel it would likely perform at the high end or beyond its estimate. Good. I received it as part of an inheritance from an aunt who was the wife of a partner of Andrew Carnegie in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. So she had some nice things. She was a very elegant person. I was drawn to it because it has so many different elements of it. At its core is a design firmly rooted in the Art Deco era. The center brings together step-cut jade, crisp diamonds, fluted rock crystal, and a vivid accent of coral. That combination is intentional and sophisticated. Each material plays a role. The jade provides calm solidity. The diamonds add structure and light. The rock crystal introduces rhythm through its fluting, and the coral injects warmth and contrast. It's a palette that speaks fluently in the visual language of the late 1920s. The intrigue begins when you look at the outer rim. It doesn't quite belong to the center composition. Its warmer tone and simpler presence point to a later moment, likely the 1940s, when yellow gold surged back into fashion. What happened here wasn't destruction, but adaptation. The original object began life as a dress clip, a popular form in the Art Deco period. When styles changed and clips fell out of favor, someone chose to preserve the centerpiece by attaching it to a circular brooch frame, prioritizing wearability over historical purity. Hidden beneath that later addition is what truly elevates the piece, its maker. The discrete markings reveal it was created in France by Van Cleef and Arpels. That signature transforms the brooch from an attractive curiosity into a documented work by one of the most influential jewelry houses of the 20th century. I would say if you had to go to public auction, we'd estimate it $5,000 to $7,000, which is great. Extraordinary. If it was intact, probably $10,000 to $15,000. No kidding. So you've got a lot of value here. Thank you. I brought in a Van Cleef and Arpels butterfly brooch. My parents had gone on vacation to Paris, I believe in the late 60s, and my father bought this for my mother in an antique store. Created in 1971 by Van Cleef and Arpels, the piece belongs to a long tradition of whimsical animal and insect designs that helped define the Maison's identity. Butterflies, in particular, allowed designers to explore movement, symmetry, and life, qualities that feel effortless here, but are anything but accidental. The wings are carved from tiger's eye, a stone prized for its chatoyancy, the shifting band of light that moves across the surface as the angle changes. That optical effect gives the butterfly a sense of motion, as though it might lift off at any moment. Van Cleef's designers leaned into that natural behavior, shaping the stone in gentle curves rather than forcing it flat. Even the metalwork follows the same rhythm, with the gold structure and antennae subtly arcing to mirror the wings. Set into the 18-carat yellow gold are round, brilliant-cut diamonds, used sparingly. Their role isn't dominance, but punctuation, small flashes of light that keep the eye moving without distracting from the form. Turn the brooch over, and the quality becomes even clearer. The handmade trombone clasp slides smoothly, a far more sophisticated choice than a standard catch. It's a functional detail, but also a quiet signature of high-end craftsmanship. Marks on the reverse confirm the date, grounding the piece firmly in the early 1970s, a period when the house continued to produce finely made jewelry, even as tastes were shifting. If this had been just a very nice butterfly brooch made by a nice jeweler, I might have been telling you $1,000 to $1,500. Okay. But it's Van Cleef, and that's a big deal. This piece today at auction would be $4,000 to $6,000. Very nice. Thank you. You're going to wear it? I think I will, although I do have granddaughters who are eyeing it, so I may have to share. It originally belonged to my great-grandmother who came to Tucson in 1878, and it's been passed down through each daughter until it got to me for four generations. Created around 1915, the piece reflects the Belle Epoque aesthetic at its most refined. The design is light and lyrical, built around a garland or wreath motif that feels almost weightless despite being entirely diamond and platinum. That balance is intentional. During this period, jewelers were obsessed with making precious materials appear delicate, as if metal and stone could float rather than rest. The platinum work is central to that illusion. Fine knife-edge bars, intricate mill graining, and carefully articulated links allow light to pass through the brooch instead of being blocked by it. Platinum made this possible. Stronger than silver and capable of being drawn into extremely thin forms, it became the metal of choice for elite jewelry workshops in the early 20th century, particularly in American centers like New York. The diamonds are equally thoughtful in their arrangement. A principal stone just under a carat anchors the design, with smaller diamonds graduating outward to create rhythm rather than uniform sparkle. At the base, a pear-shaped diamond drop adds movement. Subtle, controlled, and graceful. Altogether, the total diamond weight comes in at approximately five carats, but nothing about the brooch feels heavy or excessive. What elevates this piece beyond its materials is how clearly it represents its era. Belle Époque jewelry favored harmony, symmetry, and optimism. Values reflected in the flowing lines and floral inspiration seen here. It was jewelry meant to celebrate life rather than dominate it. Today, collectors have rediscovered that appeal. Demand for authentic Belle Époque diamond jewelry continues to rise, particularly pieces with fine platinum workmanship and balanced proportions. At an auction, I would say the estimate would be anywhere between $7,000 and $9,000. Oh my gosh, really? Yes, definitely. Oh, that's wonderful. Yeah, I'm glad you're happy with that. Oh, I'm very happy with that. I had no idea what it was worth. Well, these are pieces that my husband gave me for our 25th anniversary. That's so nice. And do you have any idea what he spent on them? I don't. I wasn't, I wasn't going to ask him. These are estate pieces from some European woman who had probably been from Hungary. Okay. The bracelet belongs to the Victorian world of the mid-19th century, around 1860. Its warmth is immediate. Yellow gold dominates the composition, paired with amethyst and rosecut, diamonds that glow rather than sparkle. Victorian jewelry favored mood and symbolism over brilliance, and this bracelet reflects that sensibility perfectly. The amethyst brings depth and color, while the rosecut diamonds, faceted to catch candlelight rather than electric light, add a soft shimmer. Everything here feels intimate and personal, made to be admired up close rather than across a room. The brooch, by contrast, is unmistakably art deco, dating to around 1925. Where the bracelet is romantic, the brooch is confident. Platinum replaces gold, and diamonds take center stage. The design is precise and architectural, built around strong geometry and balance. The stones are old European cuts, lively and full of character, totaling approximately five and a half carats. At the heart sits a larger diamond of about a carat and a quarter, anchoring the composition and giving the brooch its visual authority. Both pieces show hand craftsmanship, evident in the settings and stone placement. While neither carries clear, readable hallmarks, their construction and materials point toward European origins, likely Central or Eastern Europe, where jewelers excelled in both Victorian and early modern styles. What makes this pairing especially appealing is contrast. The bracelet represents an era of sentiment and softness, while the brooch reflects speed, progress, and modernity. Together, they chart the evolution of taste over roughly 65 years. An auction estimate on just the brooch would be somewhere in the neighborhood of $5,500 to $7,500. The bracelet would be $3,000 to $5,000. Oh, excellent. Yeah. Basically, I was in real estate, and real estate slowed down, so we opened a secondhand dealer's store, and this is one of the items that got purchased in our store five years ago. We knew there was something there. We just didn't know what it was. Dating to the 18th century, this piece is best understood as an order badge, a ceremonial object meant to signify rank, allegiance, or honor. Its symbolism is unmistakable. The fleur-de-lis and the crosspoint toward authority, tradition, and institutional power, not personal decoration. This wasn't jewelry made for fashion. It was made to represent status. What truly sets it apart, however, is the diamonds. These are table-cut diamonds arranged in a graduated sequence, moving from a raised pyramid-like form to a flatter surface. That transition matters. Table cuts represent a critical stage in the evolution of diamond cutting, between early point cuts and the later brilliant styles. Seeing them preserved in this configuration is exceptionally rare, and it places the piece firmly within the 1700s. The construction reinforces its importance. Weighing roughly five ounces, the badge is made of exceptionally high-purity gold, tested at approximately 22 carats. That's not incidental. Gold of this richness was expensive even by 18th century standards, and signals that this was commissioned by someone with substantial means. The piece was built to last, not to be melted down or reworked. Originally intended to be worn as a pendant, the badge was later adapted with a brooch fitting. Carefully added, not crudely altered. That modification allowed it to survive changing fashions without destroying its integrity, which is often the difference between survival and loss. From a market perspective, the distinction between scrap and significance is enormous here. This object's value lies in its history, symbolism, craftsmanship, and rarity, not its weight alone. What did you pay for this? $3,800. We would feel comfortable giving it a pre-sale auction estimate of $20,000 to $30,000. That's amazing. Gave me goosebumps. At an estate sale in South Mississippi, I saw it, thought it was absolutely beautiful. I paid $5,400. Created around 1954 by Verdura, the flower brooch reflects the vision of a designer who believed jewelry should feel alive. Verdura was famous for rejecting restraint in favor of vibrancy, and this piece captures that philosophy perfectly. Flowers weren't decorative afterthoughts for him. They were expressions of movement, optimism, and personality. The materials alone place this firmly in the top tier of mid-20th century jewelry. Diamonds, all full cut, are set in platinum to create crisp highlights and structural strength. Emeralds introduce saturated green, unmistakably South American in character, while richly colored amethysts, sourced from Uruguay, bring that distinctive purple-blue tone collector's prize. The stones aren't competing. They're orchestrated. Each color has space to breathe. The setting is equally important. Crafted in 18-karat gold, the brooch balances warmth and durability, allowing the gemstones to remain the focal point. Turn it over, and the craftsmanship becomes even more impressive. The piece is modular, held together with discrete screws that allow individual floral elements to be removed, repaired, and reassembled without disturbing the design. That level of foresight is rare. Verdura didn't just think about how jewelry looked. He thought about how it would live over decades. This wasn't mass-market luxury. Verdura operated as an elite Fifth Avenue jeweler, producing pieces for clients who valued originality, color, and engineering in equal measure. As a result, his signed works have become increasingly sought after, especially bold floral designs from the 1950s. A piece like this, if it came up for auction and we advertised it right, could easily sell anywhere from $25,000 to $35,000. Oh my goodness. Oh wow. They belong to my grandmother. She gave them to me. Great. And do you know where your might have gotten them from? I have no idea. My grandmother was a floozy. We have no idea where she got them. All right. Well, it sounds like your grandmother might have had the personality to wear these wonderful brooches. What you're looking at is a duet brooch set, a clever design concept that allowed one piece to transform into two. Each seahorse can be worn on its own as a dress clip or paired together to create a single statement brooch. That versatility was part of the appeal. Jewelry that could adapt to mood, outfit, or occasion without losing its visual punch. The set was made by Corot, the most prolific and influential costume jewelry manufacturer in the United States during the 20th century. Corot didn't just follow trends, it set them. In fact, the company officially trademarked the duet concept, turning a idea into a collectible category of its own. Dating to around 1945, these seahorses reflect wartime and post-war design sensibilities. With fine metals restricted and fashion craving escapism, designers leaned into imaginative forms and bold finishes. Seahorses were perfect symbols, whimsical, exotic, and slightly surreal. The rhodium finish gives the pieces a cool silvery brilliance, while enamel and gemstone accents add texture and sparkle without pretending to be fine jewelry. Details matter here. One seahorse bears the Corot signature discreetly worked into the tail, while the other carries a patent number, both reassuring signs of authenticity. Although the original connecting mechanism is missing, the pair remains highly wearable and visually complete, whether styled together or separately. Duet brooches fell out of fashion by the 1950s, as lighter fabrics replaced structured garments. But today, they've found a new audience. Collectors appreciate their ingenuity, design confidence, and unmistakable mid-century charm. At auction today, I would value these between $800 and $1,000. Oh my goodness, cool. Created around 1955, the piece comes from Seaman Sheps, a name synonymous with confidence, originality, and a refusal to follow European rules. Sheps didn't design jewelry to impress old traditions. He designed it to feel bold, modern, and unmistakably alive. What gives this brooch away immediately is its logic, or rather, its playful defiance of it. The pearls were clearly drilled at some point, likely intended for a necklace that never came to be. Instead of discarding them, Sheps did something clever and characteristically fearless. He embraced the imperfection. The drill holes were filled with tiny plugs of gold, not hidden, not disguised, just owned. That detail alone places the piece early in his career, before diamonds became his preferred punctuation. The gemstones are citrines, warm and glowing rather than rare or precious. Sheps was never obsessed with traditional hierarchy. He cared about color, scale, and presence. Citrine gave him exactly that, rich tone without stiffness. The pearls bring softness, the gold brings strength, and together they create a brooch that feels sculptural rather than ornamental. This is jewelry designed for women who didn't want to look delicate. In the 1950s, Sheps' clients were confident, cosmopolitan, and unconcerned with convention. His Madison Avenue shop catered to that energy, producing pieces that felt effortless, but unmistakably intentional. Unfortunately, brooches are not trending right now. Right. But they will come back as everything comes back. I would say in the market right now, you're at $4,000 to $6,000. Wow. I got this at an auction back middle of the 70s, and it was early in the evening, and I got the bid. And what'd you pay? $250. This lion brooch comes from Cartier, created around 1960, specifically the Paris Workshop, which immediately places it in a higher tier of collectability. Mid-century Cartier jewelry is known for translating symbolism into refined luxury, and animal motifs were one of the Maison's most powerful visual languages. The lion, in particular, was never chosen casually. It represents dominance, leadership, and prestige, qualities perfectly aligned with Cartier's identity. What makes this brooch especially striking is how boldly it is executed. The lion's nose is carved from a single solid emerald, an audacious and unmistakably Cartier choice. Rather than using the stone as an accent, it becomes the focal point, giving the face character and intensity. Surrounding it are finely set diamonds, adding brilliance without softening the sculptural presence of the animal. The balance between gemstone luxury and strong form is deliberate and expertly controlled. The craftsmanship reflects Cartier's philosophy during this period. Clean, confident lines paired with exceptional materials. This is not whimsical animal jewelry meant to be cute or decorative. It's assertive, almost heraldic, designed to be worn as a statement, not an accessory. Pieces like this were favored by clients who wanted jewelry that projected identity as much as wealth. Unsigned costume pieces often borrowed animal themes during the 1960s, but the difference here is authority. Everything, from the precision of the setting to the restraint in gemstone placement, signals a major house at work. That's why origin matters so much. And today, if you had to buy it at auction, you'd be raising your hand upwards of six thousand dollars. Oh my lord. That's right. Well, my grandmother, her name is Virginia, but I call her Jenna affectionately. She worked downtown Atlanta. She worked for Western Union there, and so she made that trek from where we were in a very rural area about an hour and a half south every day. So before they built the interstates and stuff, she was traveling home from work and thought she noticed what looked like a pocketbook on the side of the road. So she turned around, went back, grabbed the pocketbook, and when she got home, inside the pocketbook was three one hundred dollar bills in mid-fifties, so, and this was wrapped up in some tissue. My grandfather was a policeman at the time, worked for the police department, so they called the police department, took it up there, and they, I guess they ran the paper, whatever they did in those times, and several months went by and they released it back to her, and it was hers to keep. No one ever came forward to claim it? Nothing. Wow. Nothing. Made in America around 1935, just after the height of Art Deco, the piece blends platinum and yellow gold with a softness that signals a shift in taste. Where earlier Deco favored sharp geometry, this brooch leans into warmth and symbolism. Two birds sit nestled together, their forms gentle rather than stylized, creating a design that feels personal rather than purely fashionable. The craftsmanship is where the real charm lies. The nest is fashioned in brushed 18 carat yellow gold, built up branch by branch, so it actually looks woven. That textural realism wasn't necessary, but it was chosen. Inside the nest rest three diamond-set eggs, each delicately placed, with an additional single-cut diamond perched at the tip of a branch. The diamonds throughout are single-cut and remarkably uniform, totaling around five carats. They don't shout, they glow. Small details elevate the whole composition. Ruby eyes give the birds expression and life, while the yellow gold beaks echo the warmth of the nest. It's unsigned, but that's not unusual for high-quality American jewelry of this period. Everything about the piece suggests a skilled workshop rather than mass production. Bird motifs carried special meaning in the 1930s. Love, home, safety, and continuity. That symbolism makes this brooch especially fitting as a family heirloom, worn at milestones rather than everyday occasions. It's decorative, yes, but also deeply sentimental. It was to be sold at auction. I would expect it to bring somewhere between four and six thousand dollars. Okay, super cool. For retail, I'd say about double, maybe ten to fifteen thousand. Awesome. Well, my grandmother is going to be so excited. I begged her to come, but she wouldn't come with all us crazy people, she said, but she'll be excited for me to give her the details on it, and she's had it in a coat pocket for years before she gave it to me, so. It's a piece that my ex-husband gave me probably about 40 years ago, and I don't know much about it. This is an Italian micromosaic brooch, dating to around 1870. Unlike painted or enameled jewelry, micromosaics are built from hundreds, sometimes thousands, of tiny hand-cut glass tesserae, each placed individually to form an image. The pieces are so small that from a distance they read like brushstrokes, but up close you can see the precision and discipline behind the work. This wasn't fast jewelry. It was slow, highly skilled labor. The brooch was made in Rome, closely associated with the workshops operating around the Vatican workshops. During the 19th century, these workshops produced some of the finest micromosaics in Europe, often purchased by travelers on the Grand Tour. While these pieces are sometimes described as tourist jewelry, that label can be misleading. The audience may have been visitors, but the craftsmanship was elite. The imagery is layered with meaning. At the center is the pax, a Christian symbol of peace. Flanking it are bees, long associated with resurrection, continuity, and spiritual rebirth. Surrounding foliate motifs soften the composition, giving the brooch a sense of movement and balance. Nothing here is random. Each symbol would have been instantly recognizable to a 19th century viewer. The setting itself is 18 karat gold, providing a warm frame that contrasts beautifully with the cool precision of the glass. That combination of precious metal and painstaking surface work is what elevates micromosaic jewelry beyond novelty. The prices have come down a little bit, but even in today's market, if this came up to auction, I would expect this piece to bring somewhere between $3,000 and $5,000. Oh, that's wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Well, thank you very much. You're welcome. I appreciate it. It belonged to my dad's aunt, who lived in Kansas City, and she gave the piece to my mother because she really liked her. I know she did collect antiques. And do you know how long it has been that she may have had this? She died in 1958, and I think she was in her 90s when she died, and she started collecting antiques in 32. Dating to around 1850 to 1860, this object is both a perfume flask and a brooch, designed for a world very different from our own. Cities were crowded, streets were shared with horses, and strong smells were part of everyday life. Scent flasks, sometimes called vinaigrettes, were carried so a woman could revive herself discreetly with a pleasant aroma. What makes this example exceptional is how elegantly that function is disguised as fine jewelry. The flask itself is crafted in 18 karat gold and decorated with Champleve enamel, a demanding technique where designs are carved directly into the metal, filled with enamel, and polished flush with the surface. The result is rich, graphic patterning rather than surface paint. Here, the enamel palette leans toward turquoise and Persian blue tones, reflecting the mid-19th century fascination with Moorish, North African, and Middle Eastern design. That taste for exotic motifs was very much of the moment. The engineering is just as impressive. The circular flask opens on a hinge, revealing a tiny stopper, while pearls sit at the shoulders as refined accents. The back is finished as beautifully as the front, never a given in antique jewelry. Above it all is the most unexpected element, a dragon-form brooch. This upper section clips into clothing, and the flask hangs. Below it, allowing the entire piece to be worn either suspended from a chain or anchored directly to a dress or bodice. That dragon isn't decorative whimsy. It's a functional solution, cleverly turning a utilitarian object into something dramatic and wearable. The balance between fantasy and function is what elevates this piece beyond novelty. Most scent flasks were simple. Very few were executed at this level, and fewer still survive intact, with both brooch and flask working together as intended. That rarity matters. I would estimate at auction, a piece like this would be worth somewhere between $5,000 and $7,000. And it could go much higher than that, depending on the audience or the collector's market for these type of items. We've always loved it. My mother, like I said, wore it all the time. I've not seen another scent flask like this in years that has gotten me this excited. The piece comes from Tiffany and Company, at a time when the firm was defining what American fine jewelry could be. The materials are thoughtfully chosen rather than extravagant. Diamonds paired with citrine and olivine, stones appreciated more for color harmony than intrinsic rarity. On their own, none of these would raise eyebrows. Together, under Tiffany's hand, they become something far greater. The construction tells the real story. The brooch is crafted in 18-karat yellow gold, while every diamond is set in platinum, a sophisticated and deliberate choice. Around the turn of the century, platinum was still relatively new in jewelry, prized for its strength and ability to hold diamonds securely with minimal visual intrusion. Tiffany embraced it early, using it selectively to enhance brilliance without sacrificing warmth. What stands out is the balance. The colored stones bring softness and glow, while the diamonds add crisp definition. Nothing competes. Everything is placed with intention. This kind of restraint is difficult to execute well, and it's exactly what separates factory-made Tiffany jewelry from unsigned contemporaries. Even when stones aren't exceptional, the workmanship carries authority. Collectors understand this distinction. Tiffany factory production from the early 20th century represents consistency, quality control, and a design language that helped establish America as a serious force in fine jewelry. That auction would bring somewhere between six and eight thousand dollars. Yes. I'm amazed. Thank you for coming. Thank you for telling me. I got it from a shop in Lincoln. I had looked at what's usually in cases. It's really nice, and there's nothing there. And I went over to what I call the junk jewelry, and it was sitting there on the shelf. Okay. And what did you buy it for? Fifteen dollars. Wow. When you bought it, was it promoted as something, or did the jeweler say what the stones were? No, no. I made some guesses that maybe they were pink topaz, based upon some research that I did. When did you buy this? Eight years ago. This is a Georgian suite, a brooch paired with matching ear pendants, all crafted in 14 carat gold. Cannot tell work is one of the great achievements of early 19th century jewelry. Instead of solid cast metal, the design is built from countless fine gold wires, twisted and coiled into honeycomb like forms. The effect is airy and lace like, yet surprisingly durable. It's jewelry engineered to look fragile while surviving nearly two centuries. The stones are precious topaz, and their vivid pink tone isn't accidental. During the Georgian period, gemstones were often set over colored foil backs, a technique used to intensify color and luminosity under candlelight. That foil backing is doing exactly what it was meant to do here, amplifying saturation and giving the stones an almost electric glow. It's a reminder that historical jewelers understood optics long before modern lighting existed. The suite's cohesion is especially important. Matching sets from this era are far rarer than single pieces, as earrings and brooches were often separated, damaged, or refashioned over time. Here, the brooch and ear pendants remain together, preserving the original design intent. Leaf motifs and pendant drops add movement, ensuring the jewelry comes alive when worn. There are subtle clues to its age as well. The brightness of the gold suggests it has been lightly cleaned at some point, but the construction, foil backed stones, and canotile technique firmly anchor it in the Georgian period. Stylistically, it most likely originated in England, where this kind of work was especially refined. Do you have any idea how much it is worth? I'm guessing more than $15. More than $15. Now, have you ever tried to, because you bought it for $15, did you ever try to sell it? I did take it to a dealer in another state when I was visiting, a high-end antique dealer, and the person said, she looked at it very carefully, and she said, I agree it's gold plated, it's not worth much, but I can take it off your hands for you. And I said, no thank you, I'll take it home with me. Okay, well that was quite interesting. She didn't give you a number or value. She did not give me a number. Well, I would say for auction purposes, you would be looking at about $2,500 to $3,500 auction estimate. Wow, that's a nice investment, isn't it? I would say so. Wow, I'm surprised, really surprised, really surprised. This was my mother's. I inherited it from her. I'm not sure when it's from, maybe the 40s, the 50s, that's all I know about it. Made around 1940, the piece was created by Sandor Goldberger, a New York-based artist whose work has become quietly legendary among collectors of mid-century costume jewelry. Sandor didn't shout with size or excess stones. Instead, he focused on balance, texture, and refined detail, especially in sterling silver. This brooch is unmistakably of the 1940s. During that decade, jewelry design shifted dramatically. Wartime restrictions limited access to precious gemstones, and designers responded by leaning into metalwork. The result was jewelry that felt sculptural rather than sparkly, and this piece embodies that approach perfectly. The sterling silver does most of the talking. Look closer, and the delicacy becomes clear. The flower petals are crafted from mother-of-pearl, giving a soft, luminous quality that contrasts beautifully with the cool silver. Blue crystal rhinestones are used sparingly, adding just enough color and light without overwhelming the design. That restraint is intentional. Sandor's work is never about excess. It's about refinement. The signature matters here. Instead of using his full name, Sandor signed his pieces simply as Sandor Sterling, a mark that collectors now actively seek out. His jewelry was produced in limited quantities, and many designs were handmade or finished by hand, which contributes to their rarity today. Compared to mass-produced costume jewelry of the era, Sandor's work feels personal and thoughtful. Another key detail is condition. Pieces like this were often worn frequently, making well-preserved examples increasingly hard to find. When they surface intact, they tend to attract strong interest from collectors who appreciate 1940s American design. In a good retail setting, in today's market, this piece would sell for one thousand dollars. Oh my god. A thousand dollars? Yes. That's incredible. I purchased that piece from an antique broker in our area. Basically, I bought it for the gold late to keep, and not to get rid of, but for an investment. How many months ago or how many years ago did you do that? I bought about six months ago. Do you mind me asking how much you paid for it? I paid right around eight hundred dollars. Eight hundred dollars. Made around the 1870s, the piece belongs to the archaeological revival movement, a period when jewelers looked backward thousands of years for inspiration. As excavations in Egypt, Pompeii, Greece, and Rome captured public imagination, designers began reviving ancient techniques that had nearly vanished. This brooch isn't borrowing the look of antiquity, it's borrowing the methods. The gold work is the giveaway. Along the edges you see exceptionally fine granulation, tiny spheres of gold applied with astonishing precision. Combined with twisted wire and sculpted surfaces, these techniques echo ancient Etruscan and Greek jewelry, processes so technically demanding that even modern jewelers rarely attempt them successfully. In the 19th century, a small group of highly trained craftsmen brought these skills back to life, and did so at an extraordinary level. At the center is a striking figure, bold and slightly enigmatic. It isn't conventionally pretty, and that's intentional. Archaeological revival jewelry wasn't designed to flatter in the traditional sense, it was meant to reference. These pieces appealed to educated collectors, people who appreciated art history, excavation, and authenticity rather than sparkle alone. This wasn't tourist jewelry, it was made for connoisseurs. Gold weight alone gives the brooch a baseline value, but that's not where the real worth lies. Melt value treats gold as anonymous. This piece is anything but. Its survival in intact condition, without being melted down during later gold booms, already puts it ahead of countless contemporaries that no longer exist. Stylistically and technically, it was most likely made in Italy, where revival workshops flourished, and where ancient precedents were studied most closely. And while a simple gold brooch of similar weight might trade around bullion value, this example steps into a completely different category. If it were just a nice gold brooch, you did a good job, and I would say around $1,000. Being what it is makes it more unusual. You're looking at about $5,000 to $7,000 at auction. Thank you very much. A neat piece. Yeah, and now I'm really happy that I invested in it. I think you did a good job. Thank you very much. You're welcome. This piece is what specialists call a bodice ornament. Dating to around 1880, a form of jewelry popular in the late 19th century, intended to sit prominently on formal dress rather than function as a small decorative pin. Its scale, weight, and brilliance all reflect that purpose. This wasn't an accessory added at the last moment. It was part of the statement. The construction tells a great deal about its origins. The brooch is made in silver-on-gold, a classic 19th-century technique where diamonds were set in silver to enhance their brightness, while gold was used on the reverse for strength and comfort against fabric. That combination immediately places the piece before the widespread use of platinum and firmly in the imperial era of fine jewelry. What truly anchors it geographically are the hallmarks. These marks confirm the piece was made in Russia, likely during a time when Russian jewelry rivaled anything being produced in Western Europe. Russian court taste favored bold, glittering ornaments, jewels that projected status, wealth, and confidence rather than restraint. The diamonds themselves are lively and full, cut to glow under candlelight and early electric illumination. Their arrangement emphasizes surface impact rather than minimalism, which aligns perfectly with late 19th-century fashion. Bodice ornaments like this were meant to be seen from across a ballroom, catching light with every movement. Survival also matters here. Pieces of this size and age were often broken down, reset, or lost to changing fashion. The fact that this example remains intact adds to its rarity and appeal. Condition, completeness, and confirmed origin all work in its favor. Any idea of value? No, I haven't the faintest idea. I would say in the market today, because of condition, rarity, and beauty, $15,000 to $20,000. So I think you have something that's really to be treasured. At first glance, it's pure 1930s elegance. A striking arrangement of deep blue sapphires framed by shimmering diamonds, all originally crafted in platinum, the metal of choice during the Art Deco era for its strength and ability to hold stones with razor-sharp precision. The design reflects the period's obsession with symmetry, geometry, and bold contrast. Platinum allowed jewelers to create delicate yet durable settings that made gemstones appear almost suspended in air. From the front, everything about this brooch speaks of refined craftsmanship. The sapphires carry that rich, velvety tone collectors adore, while the diamonds add brilliance without overwhelming the design. It's the kind of piece you'd imagine pinned to a silk evening gown at a 1930s gala. But true value in antique jewelry isn't just about what shines on the surface. Turn the piece over, and the story shifts. At some point in its life, the original platinum backing was replaced with 18-karat yellow gold. While beautifully executed, this alteration changes more than just the metal. It impacts authenticity. For serious collectors, originality is everything. Even a well-done modification can significantly affect desirability. This brooch carries the confidence of its decade right on the surface. Dating to the 1940s, the piece is a classic example of retro jewelry, a style shaped as much by circumstance as by fashion. During this period, platinum was scarce, and tastes shifted toward warmer metals and sculptural forms. Jewelers responded with designs that emphasized volume, curves, and visual impact rather than fine filigree. This flower brooch fits squarely into that movement. The construction immediately signals its era. The metalwork is bold and dimensional, built to catch light from multiple angles rather than rely on intricate detail. Retro flower designs often exaggerated petals, using strong contours to create depth and motion. Instead of trying to look airy, these pieces embraced solidity and presence. Jewelry meant to be seen across a room. Its origins in New York City are important. In the 1940s, New York was a powerhouse of jewelry manufacturing, producing well-made pieces that balanced style with durability. These weren't fragile adornments. They were designed for real life, worn by women navigating wartime restrictions and post-war optimism, when jewelry became a form of personal expression rather than pure luxury. What makes this brooch especially appealing today is its versatility. Retro pieces bridge the gap between antique and modern taste. They're bold without feeling dated, decorative without being fussy. Collectors and casual buyers alike are drawn to their confident shapes and wearable scale. I would value this between $1,000 and $1,500 as an auction estimate, so it has a wide range because it's very pretty.