17 April 2026
Habits that keep armor plates on the table
The viewing room is a rented floor in a quiet Bangkok shophouse, not a museum gallery. That is deliberate. Armor archive plates come out of a cabinet, rest on foam, and go back the same afternoon. The house rules exist because a single oily thumbprint on a gold foil helmet is a condition event we then have to write into the lot notes.
You will be asked to wash your hands, wait for them to dry, then glove. People who arrive from lunch with chilli oil still in the cuticles leave prints through cotton. We would rather start five minutes late than pretend the gloves are magic.
Phones stay on the side bench. You may photograph plates on the rests, no flash, no lifting. If you need a crop of a printer’s mark, ask. We will rotate the foam. We will not hold a plate in the air for a better angle. That request is how corners get a wave.
Two guests means two pairs of eyes, not a small audience. If a spouse or advisor is joining, name them on the booking. We set only two chairs. Standing over a seated collector is how sleeves brush foil.
If you feel rushed, say so before the last plate. We will not add plates, but we can slow the last comparison. Overtime is not sold at the door because the next cabinet cycle is already timed. That rigidity is part of why the plates are still in a condition we are willing to show.