It's a lot of responsibility when you find out how much something is worth.
In a Goodwill store outside Richmond, Virginia, a horse trainer's practiced eye and lifelong instinct for beauty led her to a $3.99 purchase that turned out to be a 1942 Carlo Scarpa Murano glass vase — one of only two known in its form and color — which sold at auction in December 2023 for $107,100. The story is less about luck than about the quiet persistence of value: how a masterwork can pass through a grandmother's basement, a donation bin, and a thrift store shelf, waiting for the one person who pauses long enough to notice it. It reminds us that beauty and rarity do not announce themselves, and that the people most likely to find them are those who have spent a lifetime learning to look.
- A $3.99 thrift store vase turned out to be a nearly irreplaceable 1942 Carlo Scarpa masterpiece — one of only two known examples in its exact form and color combination.
- Online collector communities mobilized within days of Vincent posting photos, rapidly escalating the find from a pretty curiosity to a matter of serious art-world attention.
- Authentication specialists flew from Chicago to Virginia, and the moment they saw the vase emerge from bubble wrap and a tablecloth, their reaction told Vincent everything she needed to know.
- A single small chip would have reduced the vase's value by more than 90%, making its perfect condition as remarkable as its discovery.
- The vase sold for $107,100 to a European collector, netting Vincent roughly $83,500 — enough to finally heat her farmhouse properly and exhale after years of financial tightness.
- Vincent hopes the vase finds its way to a museum, recognizing that some objects carry a responsibility too large for any private home to hold.
On a June afternoon, Jessica Vincent was moving through the shelves of a Goodwill store outside Richmond when a bottle-shaped vase caught her. Its surface spiraled with aqua green and amethyst purple, the colors seeming to emanate from within the glass itself. She turned it over and found two words: Murano. Italia. She paid $3.99 and brought it home.
Vincent, 43, trains polo and sport horses with her partner and has spent a lifetime visiting thrift stores and yard sales, shaped in part by years of watching Antiques Roadshow with her mother. She wasn't buying the vase as an investment — she bought it because it was striking. Back home, she posted photos in Facebook groups for glass art enthusiasts, and within days had been welcomed into a private community of Murano collectors who recognized what she had found.
The vase was part of Carlo Scarpa's Pennellate series — Italian for brushstroke — created in 1942 by one of the most celebrated glass designers of the 20th century. The technique required a master blower to continuously rotate the piece while applying delicate strokes of colored opaque glass, a process so demanding that very few were ever made. Only one other vase in this exact form and color combination is known to exist, held in a private European collection.
Richard Wright, president of the Wright Auction House in Chicago, recognized the piece the moment he saw Vincent's email. His team sent two Italian glass specialists to Virginia to authenticate it. When Vincent pulled the vase from a cardboard box wrapped in bubble wrap and a tablecloth, the look on the specialists' faces said everything. It was in perfect condition — a single chip would have reduced its value to under $10,000.
On December 13, 2023, the vase sold for $107,100 to a private European collector. After the auction house's commission, Vincent walked away with approximately $83,500. She and her partner had recently bought an old farmhouse that was being heated by space heaters; a good portion of the proceeds will go toward a proper HVAC system. As for the vase, she hopes it eventually finds a museum. 'My little 1930s farmhouse,' she said, 'is not the right showcase for something so spectacular.'
Jessica Vincent was browsing the shelves of a Goodwill store outside Richmond on a June afternoon when a vase stopped her. It was bottle-shaped, its glass surface alive with ribbons of aqua green and amethyst purple spiraling upward like brushstrokes frozen in time. Among the measuring cups and candles and accumulated clutter of a thrift store, it looked genuinely old. When she turned it over, she found two words stamped into the base: Murano. Italia. She paid $3.99 and took it home, thinking only that it would look beautiful somewhere in her house.
Vincent, 43, a horse trainer who visits thrift stores several times a week with her partner, had grown up hunting yard sales and watching PBS's "Antiques Roadshow" with her mother. She had always felt she had a decent eye for things. But she wasn't buying this vase as an investment. She was buying it because it was striking. It felt heavy in her hands, and the colors seemed to come from within the glass itself, applied with a delicacy she had never quite seen before.
Back home, she posted photos in Facebook groups dedicated to glass art. Within days, she had joined a private community of Murano collectors, and the responses came quickly. The vase was rare—genuinely rare. Every serious collector wanted one. Most could never afford it. The piece had been designed by Carlo Scarpa, an Italian architect and one of the most celebrated glass designers of the mid-20th century, who died in 1978. It was part of his Pennellate series, created in 1942, a collection whose name meant brushstroke. The vases were made by a master blower who had to rotate the piece constantly while applying delicate strokes of colored opaque glass—a process so difficult and time-consuming that very few were ever produced. The auction house would later confirm that only one other vase existed in this exact form and color combination, and it sat in a private collection somewhere in Europe.
Vincent was connected with Richard Wright, president of the Wright Auction House in Chicago. "The minute I saw her email," Wright said, "I knew what it was and how rare it was." The auction house sent two Italian glass specialists to Virginia to authenticate the piece. Vincent pulled it from a cardboard box wrapped in bubble wrap and a tablecloth. "Just the look on their faces," she recalled. "It was incredible to have experts who handle very important pieces of glass who were very excited for my little thrift-store vase." The vase was in perfect condition—a small chip would have slashed its value to less than $10,000.
On December 13, 2023, the vase sold at auction for $107,100 to a private European collector. After the auction house took its commission of roughly $23,600, Vincent walked away with approximately $83,500. She had no idea how the vase ended up at Goodwill. A Goodwill spokeswoman speculated it might have come from someone cleaning out a grandmother's basement, one of roughly 2,000 items that flow through the store each day. The vase had probably been on the shelf for only a couple of days before Vincent found it.
Vincent and her partner train polo horses, sport horses, and trail horses. They had recently bought an old farmhouse that was being heated by space heaters. A good portion of the auction proceeds will go toward installing a proper HVAC system. "I'm not independently wealthy," Vincent said, "so it's going to be really good to have a little breathing room." As for the vase itself, she hopes it will eventually end up in a museum. "My little 1930s farmhouse is not the right showcase for something so spectacular," she said. "It would also make me super nervous to have it in my house. It's a lot of responsibility when you find out how much something is worth."
Notable Quotes
I always felt like I had a good eye. But I'm really surprised that nobody picked it up before I did.— Jessica Vincent
The minute I saw her email, I knew what it was and how rare it was.— Richard Wright, Wright Auction House president
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
How did you know to look at the base of the vase in the first place?
I think it was just instinct. When something feels that substantial, that carefully made, you want to understand where it came from. The weight of it, the way the colors moved through the glass—it all suggested someone had spent real time on it.
And then you posted it online. That's the moment everything changed.
Yes, but I didn't know that at the time. I was just curious. I wanted to know what I had. The Facebook groups answered almost immediately—and not with "oh, that's nice"—with "this is extremely rare." That's when I realized I needed to talk to someone who actually knew.
The specialists came from Italy to authenticate it. What was that moment like?
Surreal. These are people who handle museum-quality glass every day. And they were genuinely excited about something I bought for four dollars. That's when it became real—not the money, but the fact that I had somehow found something that mattered.
Do you think about the person who donated it?
All the time. We'll probably never know. It could have been someone who inherited it and didn't understand what they had. Or someone who needed to clear out space. But whoever they were, they let it go for nothing. That's the strange part of this whole thing.
And now you're hoping it ends up in a museum.
I have to. I can't keep something this fragile and this valuable in a farmhouse heated by space heaters. It deserves to be somewhere it can be properly cared for and seen by people who understand what it is.