29 Old Suitcases and Trunks Selling as Furniture

Luggage stopped being luggage the moment airlines began charging by the pound. What was left behind — brass-cornered steamer trunks, hardshell cases in colors no one has manufactured since 1962, aluminum boxes built to survive a cargo bay — turned out to be the right height for a sofa arm and the right size for spare blankets.

The market that grew around this is stranger than it looks. A case worth forty dollars as a travel item can bring six times that as a side table, and a case worth six thousand dollars will never hold anything heavier than a folded throw again.

Louis Vuitton Monogram Steamer Trunk

The flat-top monogram trunk is the piece most buyers picture when they imagine trunk furniture, and it is priced accordingly. Genuine examples carry a serial number stamped inside the lid or on the lock, and the brass lock face should read Louis Vuitton with a corresponding number; the canvas pattern on pre-1960 pieces was hand-applied and shows slight registration drift that modern reproductions render too perfectly.

Lozine trim — the vulcanized fiber edging used from roughly 1900 — cracks and flakes, and replacing it properly costs more than most people expect. As a coffee table, the standard 90cm cabin size sits at a workable height on a low stand, though the leather handles are decorative at this point and should never carry the weight.

Condition drives everything: a scuffed but structurally sound example runs roughly 3,000 to 7,000 dollars, while a clean trunk with intact interior trays and a working lock clears 12,000 and keeps climbing.

Goyard Chevron-Painted Trunk

Goyardine is painted, not woven, which is the fastest way to separate a real Goyard from an imitation — the chevron pattern sits on the surface of the canvas and wears through at the corners rather than fraying like a textile. Older trunks carry a maker’s plaque or a stenciled address for 233 rue Saint-Honoré, and the lock hardware is typically brass with a simple stamped mark.

The house painted custom stripes and initials for clients, and those personalized bands raise value rather than lowering it, which is unusual in the trunk market. Used as a hallway console or a bench base, a Goyard trunk demands a plate of glass or a felt runner on top, because the paint layer scratches from a set of keys without much protest.

Expect roughly 4,000 to 9,000 dollars for an honest example with wear, and considerably more for one with a documented owner and legible painted monogram.

Moynat Curved-Lid Malle

Moynat built the malle anglaise and the gutta-percha-coated trunks that were pitched as waterproof, and the curved-lid examples are among the most sculptural pieces in the category. Identification runs through the lock plate and interior label, which typically names the Paris address; the firm went quiet for decades before its 2011 revival, so anything genuinely old predates the 1970s.

The curved lid is the problem and the appeal — it will not stack, will not take a lamp, and looks superb at the foot of a bed doing nothing at all. Interior paper linings on these are often original and extremely fragile, so resist the urge to scrub; a soft brush and patience are the entire toolkit.

Prices are volatile because supply is thin, but a sound example generally lands between 5,000 and 15,000 dollars depending on lock, leather straps, and how much of the original lining survives.

Hermes Leather Travel Case

Hermes luggage from the mid-century — the Haut à Courroies lineage and the rigid leather valises — is identified by the blind stamp on the leather, the saddle stitching, and lock hardware marked with the maker’s name. These are leather-over-frame rather than canvas-over-wood, which means they are lighter, softer at the corners, and far more vulnerable to dryness than a steamer trunk.

As furniture they work best perched on a luggage rack or a metal frame at end-table height, where the patina reads as intentional rather than neglected. Restoration is a specialist job; consumer leather conditioners often darken the hide unevenly and can cause dye transfer onto upholstery underneath.

A well-kept case sits in the 2,500 to 8,000 dollar range, with cracked handles and dry corners knocking a third or more off the figure.

Samsonite Streamlite

The Streamlite line ran from the late 1930s through the 1950s and is the case most often photographed as a nightstand, largely because the streamlined corners and marbled finishes photograph well. Look for the Shwayder Bros. mark — Samsonite was the trade name, Shwayder was the company — pressed into the hardware or printed on the interior label.

The bodies are wood frames covered in vulcanized fiber, which is tougher than it sounds but delaminates once water gets in at a seam. Interior linings in rayon and paper are where the mustiness lives, and a case that has been closed since 1958 needs weeks of airing before it belongs in a bedroom.

Realistic pricing is 40 to 150 dollars for common sizes, rising toward 250 for the desirable cream marble or green finishes with clean linings and a working latch.

Samsonite Silhouette

Silhouette arrived in 1958 with a molded shell and a squared profile that reads more modern than the Streamlite, and the palette — powder blue, sand, oxblood — matches mid-century interiors almost too conveniently. Identification is easy because the model name is usually printed on the interior lining or embossed near the latches, and later examples carry the Samsonite logo rather than Shwayder.

Stacked three deep with the largest at the bottom, a Silhouette set makes a passable end table that will hold a lamp but not a person. The plastic shells can develop a chalky bloom that responds to a mild cleaner, though aggressive solvents will haze the surface permanently.

Common cases trade at 25 to 90 dollars; a matched set in one color with intact keys and no cracked latch pushes toward 200.

Hartmann Belting Leather Wardrobe Trunk

Hartmann of Racine, Wisconsin built the Cushion Top and Gibraltarized trunks that traveling professionals bought once and used for thirty years. Belting leather examples are heavy, dark, and identified by the brass Hartmann plate on the lid plus a lock often supplied by Eagle Lock Company of Terryville, Connecticut.

Standing upright with the hanging section removed, one of these becomes a shallow cabinet or a media console; laid flat, the depth is generous enough for a full linen closet’s worth of storage. Belting leather dries out and the corners split first, so a light conditioner applied over several sessions beats one heavy application.

Figure 400 to 1,200 dollars for a solid piece, less if the interior hanger bar and drawers are missing, since those parts are effectively unobtainable.

Hartmann Tweed Case

The tweed-covered Hartmann cases, trimmed in leather with brass corners, are the softer-looking cousin of the belting leather line and cost far less. The tweed is a woven wool blend bonded to a wood frame, and it wears at the corners in a way that looks characterful up to a point and shabby beyond it.

Interior labels typically name Hartmann Luggage Company along with a model designation, and the hardware is usually solid brass rather than plated. As a stacked side table these are ideal because the fabric surface takes a tray without scratching, unlike painted or patent finishes.

Pricing sits between 75 and 300 dollars depending on the amount of moth damage to the tweed and whether the leather trim has gone brittle.

Mark Cross Leather Case

Mark Cross made the case Grace Kelly carried in Rear Window and traded on that association for decades, which keeps demand steady even among buyers who have never seen the film. Genuine pieces carry a stamped Mark Cross mark inside the lid, often accompanied by an English or Italian manufacturing note, and the leather is typically calf or saddle with hand-finished edges.

The proportions are compact, which makes a single case a natural bedside piece rather than a coffee table, and the neutral tan works against almost any wall color. These cases were lined in suede or moiré fabric that stains permanently, so avoid displaying one under a window where sun will fade the interior unevenly.

A clean example brings 300 to 900 dollars; scuffed cases with failing stitching sell nearer 150.

T. Anthony Canvas and Leather Case

T. Anthony opened on Park Avenue in 1946 and built its reputation on canvas cases with contrasting leather trim in black, tan, or the signature red. Identification is straightforward: the interior bears a printed label with the New York address, and the brass hardware is typically unmarked but heavy. The clean rectangular geometry stacks better than almost anything else in this list, which is why interior stylists reach for these when they need a column of luggage beside a bed.

The canvas takes surface dirt readily and responds to gentle cleaning, but the leather trim can transfer color onto pale carpet if it gets damp. Expect 200 to 600 dollars for a good case, with the red trim commanding a premium and heavily soiled canvas cutting the figure in half.

Rimowa Aluminum Case

Rimowa introduced its ribbed aluminum cases in 1950, and the grooved shell has been essentially unchanged since, which makes dating harder than it looks. Older examples carry a riveted badge and typically use simple draw latches rather than the combination locks of the modern era; the aluminum on vintage pieces is thinner and dents rather than creases.

Every dent is permanent, and that is precisely why these work as furniture — a scarred case reads as a record rather than damage, and no one expects a repair. Do not attempt to polish out oxidation with abrasives; the surface is anodized and grinding through it leaves a bright patch that never matches.

Vintage aluminum cases run 400 to 1,500 dollars, with the larger sizes and pre-1980 examples at the upper end.

Zero Halliburton Aluminum Attache

Zero Halliburton cases descend from instrument boxes built for oil-field equipment, which explains the machined edges and the deep parallel ribs. The maker’s name is usually embossed on the latch plates or stamped near the hinge, and older cases carry the Zero Corporation mark from the Utah operation.

As a small display piece or a stack of two on a metal base, the polished aluminum throws light around a dark room in a way leather never will. The interiors are often foam, and old foam degrades into a crumbling yellow mess that must be removed entirely rather than salvaged.

Standard attache cases sell for 90 to 300 dollars; the oversized cases and factory camera configurations reach 500 or more when the latches still align properly.

Globe-Trotter Vulcanized Fiberboard Case

Globe-Trotter has been building cases from layered paper board compressed under heat since 1897, and the resulting material is light, rigid, and nearly impossible to confuse with plastic once handled. Vintage examples show leather corners, a stamped maker’s plate, and often an interior label naming the British factory; the board itself has a faint woven texture visible under raking light.

The cases are strong enough to sit on, which is unusual in this category, so a large one genuinely functions as a low bench with a cushion on top. Water is the enemy — a soaked Globe-Trotter swells and never quite recovers its shape — so keep one away from entryways in wet climates.

Older cases in good order trade at 300 to 900 dollars, dropping sharply if the corners are torn or the board has been overpainted.

Antler and Revelation British Cases

Antler and Revelation supplied the mid-century British market with expanding cases and rigid fiberboard luggage, and both turn up cheaply at UK auctions and increasingly in American shops. Revelation’s signature was the expanding gusset that let a case grow by several inches, patented decades earlier and marked on the interior label; Antler cases usually carry a printed name plate and a stag device.

Neither maker used premium materials, so these are the practical option — good color, honest wear, and a price that does not induce anxiety when someone sets a mug down. The linings are almost always where the trouble sits, with paper and cloth interiors that hold decades of stale air and sometimes visible insect damage.

Realistic pricing is 30 to 120 dollars per case, which is why these dominate the stacked-luggage look in rental properties and cafes.

Oshkosh Chief Trunk

The Oshkosh Trunk Company of Wisconsin built heavy-duty wardrobe and flat-top trunks, and the Chief line is identified by a distinctive metal badge on the lid alongside the maker’s name. Construction is serious — thick basswood frames, steel binding, and locks frequently supplied by Excelsior or Eagle — and the pieces weigh enough that positioning one is a two-person job.

Because the lids are flat and reinforced, an Oshkosh trunk takes a glass top cleanly and works as a coffee table without any modification beyond leveling the feet. The wooden bottom slats often show water damage from decades on concrete floors, and replacing them is straightforward carpentry that does not affect value much.

Sound trunks sell in the 250 to 700 dollar band, with the branded Chief badging and original interior trays adding meaningfully to the number.

Flat-Top Steamer Trunk

The flat-top steamer is the workhorse of trunk furniture because it is the only common form that stacks and supports a surface without compromise. Dating runs through hardware: cast iron corners and hand-cut dovetails suggest pre-1880, while stamped steel corners and machine-made slats point to the 1890s and later.

Lock makers are the useful tell, with Eagle Lock Company, Excelsior, Corbin, and Yale marks pressed into the escutcheon or the latch plate. The interiors are the honest problem — most are lined in decorative paper glued to raw wood, and that combination absorbs odor permanently, so plan on removing the lining or sealing it rather than deodorizing it.

A clean flat-top with intact hardware runs 150 to 500 dollars, and stripped or refinished examples usually sell for less than untouched ones, which surprises most sellers.

Camelback Trunk with Slat Bands

The camelback, or barrel-top, has a domed lid that was marketed as a way to keep other luggage from being piled on top of it, and it now guarantees the piece will never hold a lamp. Wooden slat bands run over the dome for reinforcement, and the number and spacing of slats, along with the tin or leather covering, help place the trunk in the 1870 to 1900 window.

These are display objects rather than working surfaces — at the end of a bed, beside a fireplace, or in an entry where the curve does something a rectangle cannot. The tin coverings on many were finished with old paints and coatings that should be handled with care, so wet-sanding or scraping an original surface is a poor idea without knowing what is under the brush.

Pricing is modest for the size, typically 200 to 600 dollars, since the useless lid limits demand relative to flat-tops.

Saratoga Trunk

Named for the resort town where wealthy travelers arrived with more luggage than sense, the Saratoga is a large domed trunk with elaborate interior compartments and often a padded or fabric-covered exterior. The tell is the interior: multiple lift-out trays, a bonnet compartment, and sometimes a mirrored lid, all of which distinguish it from a plain camelback.

Because the internal fittings are the value, a Saratoga with its trays intact is worth several times one that has been gutted for storage use. As furniture these are statement pieces for a wide landing or a bedroom corner, not something to wedge beside a sofa.

Complete examples bring 400 to 1,500 dollars; missing trays, failed hinges, or a replaced lock will pull that down to a few hundred fast.

Cabin Trunk

Cabin trunks were built low and long specifically to slide under a berth, which is why they land at almost exactly coffee-table height without a stand. Typical dimensions run roughly 36 to 40 inches wide and 13 to 15 inches tall, and the flat lid was reinforced because everything else in the cabin ended up on top of it.

Makers ranged from the Paris houses to anonymous American factories, so check the lock face and any surviving paper label before assuming a piece is generic. The low profile means the interior is shallow, which is genuinely useful — board games, table linens, and cables sit in a single layer rather than burying each other.

Anonymous cabin trunks sell at 200 to 600 dollars, and a named maker can multiply that several times over.

Innovation Wardrobe Trunk

Innovation, a French firm, built wardrobe trunks that opened vertically into a hanging section and a drawer tower, and the name is stamped or printed on the lock plate and interior fittings. The engineering is the appeal: sprung hanger bars, ribbon-tied drawers, and a shoe compartment, all built to survive a porter’s handling.

Standing open in a bedroom, one functions as an actual closet, which is the rare case of trunk furniture doing the job it was designed for. The drawer fronts are usually covered in fabric or paper that discolors, and the interior finishes on early examples were not formulated with modern indoor air in mind, so gentle cleaning and good ventilation beat any solvent.

Complete Innovation trunks with working drawers and hangers sell at 800 to 2,500 dollars, with incomplete examples falling to the 300 range.

Belber Wardrobe Trunk

Belber Trunk and Bag Company of Philadelphia produced enormous numbers of wardrobe trunks in the 1910s and 1920s, and the brass Belber plate on the lid is one of the easiest maker marks to spot in the field. The interiors typically include a hanger section on one side and four or five drawers on the other, with a metal frame that keeps everything square long after the exterior covering has gone.

Because production volume was high, these are the affordable entry into wardrobe trunk furniture and the ones most often converted into bar cabinets or record storage. Conversion is where value gets destroyed — cutting the drawer tower out to fit a turntable makes the piece unsellable to anyone but the next person who wants the same thing.

Intact Belbers run 350 to 900 dollars; heavily modified ones are worth whatever the modification is worth to a single buyer.

Immigrant Tin Trunk

The plain tin-covered trunk carried by arriving families is the least decorative object in this category and often the most affecting, particularly when a painted name or a port stencil survives on the lid. Construction is simple — a wood or pressed board carcass wrapped in sheet tin, with iron strapping, a basic lock, and no interior fittings beyond a paper lining.

Identification rarely involves a maker at all, since most were regional products, so the value sits in the surviving painted marks and any documentation of the family that carried it. As furniture the tin surface is cool, matte, and industrial, which suits it to a mudroom bench or a plant stand more than a formal room.

Prices range widely, from 100 dollars for an anonymous rusted example to 600 or more when the original lettering is legible and the story is documented.

Military Footlocker

The standard-issue footlocker — wood body, olive drab paint, steel corners, and a stenciled name and serial number — is the most reliably cheap trunk in circulation and the easiest to place in a room. Dating comes from the stenciling and hardware, with World War II examples typically showing heavier construction and later Vietnam-era lockers using thinner plywood and lighter fittings.

The dimensions were standardized to fit at the end of a bunk, which conveniently means they fit at the end of a bed, and the flat lid takes weight without complaint. Older painted surfaces should be handled carefully rather than sanded dry, and the interior often smells of the mothproofing compounds that were standard issue for decades.

Common lockers sell at 50 to 200 dollars, with named officers’ chests and unusual unit markings occasionally reaching 400.

Campaign Chest

Campaign furniture was designed to break down for military transport, so a campaign chest arrives with recessed brass corner brackets, flush pulls, and a body that separates into two stacking sections. Nineteenth-century British examples in teak, camphor, or mahogany are the benchmark, and the giveaway is the brass work: genuine campaign hardware is inset flush so nothing catches during loading.

These read as furniture immediately rather than as converted luggage, which is why decorators pay a premium for them over an equivalent-size trunk. Check that both halves belong together — mismatched sections are common in the trade and the grain and brass will not quite agree.

Authentic period chests run 1,200 to 5,000 dollars, while twentieth-century reproductions with surface-mounted brass sit closer to 400.

Train Case and Vanity Case

Train cases are the small hard-sided boxes with a fitted interior tray and often a mirror in the lid, made in leather, fiber, and later molded plastic by Samsonite, Amelia Earhart, Skyway, and dozens of others. Identification is usually a printed interior label or an embossed name on the latch, and the mirror, when original, is typically beveled and slightly gray with age.

Their size makes them useless for storage of consequence and perfect as a stack of two or three on a dresser, or as a single case holding jewelry beside a bed. The fitted interiors are where odor concentrates, since decades of cosmetics soaked into the lining, and a case that smells of old face powder rarely improves without stripping the lining entirely.

Common cases sell for 20 to 75 dollars, with named designer examples and unusual colors reaching 150 to 250.

Skyway and American Tourister Hardshell

Skyway and American Tourister built the molded hardshell cases that filled American closets from the late 1950s onward, and both used bright colors that now do most of the decorative work. American Tourister cases carry the brand on the latch plate or a riveted badge, and the interiors are usually printed with the model name; Skyway pieces often show a stylized logo and a metal frame around the shell edge.

These sit at the practical end of the market — genuinely sturdy, replaceable, and cheap enough to buy three at once for a stacked column beside a chair. The failure point is the latch mechanism, which uses a spring that fatigues, and a case that will not close is worth almost nothing regardless of how good the shell looks.

Typical pricing runs 25 to 80 dollars, with matched sets in strong colors such as avocado or oxblood reaching perhaps 150.

Gladstone and Doctor’s Bag

The Gladstone bag and its close relative the doctor’s bag are hinged leather bags on a rigid frame, and they turn up in interiors as a shelf object or a small closed container on a console. Quality examples show brass frame hardware, hand-stitched welts, and sometimes a retailer’s stamp inside the lid from a London or New York firm.

The frame is the thing to inspect: a bent or sprung frame cannot be corrected easily, and a bag that will not close cleanly has lost most of its function and value. Old leather that has gone hard and dark cannot be reversed by conditioning, and pushing product into dry leather can cause color transfer onto whatever the bag rests against.

Ordinary bags sell for 60 to 200 dollars, with early named-retailer examples in supple condition reaching 400 to 800.

Chinese Camphor Wood Chest

Camphor wood chests came west in enormous numbers through the mid-twentieth century, often carved on the front panel and fitted with brass corner plates and a simple hasp. Identification is by scent as much as sight — a genuine camphor chest still gives off a sharp, medicinal smell when opened, which is exactly why they were sold as moth-proof storage.

That characteristic makes them the odd case where the interior smell is the selling point rather than the problem, though the same volatility means the odor will transfer to fabric left inside for months. Structurally they work well as blanket chests and window benches, but the carved panels chip and the thin brass hardware bends under casual handling.

Expect 150 to 500 dollars for a decent carved chest, and rather more for early examples with lift-out trays and unbroken carving.

Stacked Steamer Trunk Set

Selling trunks as a graduated stack of two or three is now a category of its own, and dealers assemble sets deliberately rather than finding them together. The stack works when the pieces share a hardware language — matching Eagle Lock escutcheons, similar slat spacing, comparable tin or canvas coverings — and fails when the mismatch reads as accidental.

Practical rules apply: the bottom trunk carries the load, the lids of the lower pieces become inaccessible, and anything above 30 inches total height turns into a hazard beside a sofa. Felt pads between the trunks prevent hardware from scarring the piece below, and a discreet strap or bracket at the back keeps the tower honest.

Assembled sets typically ask 600 to 1,800 dollars, a meaningful premium over the sum of the individual trunks, which is the entire reason dealers build them.

What the Lock Face Remembers

Almost every piece here was built to be handled roughly by strangers and then forgotten in a loft, which is why so many survive at all. The value now sits in details that had nothing to do with travel — the color of a fiber shell, the spacing of slat bands, the stamp on a lock face that names a factory in Terryville, Connecticut that has been gone for decades.

Buyers are not purchasing storage; storage is available at any hardware store for a fraction of the money.

The honest caution is that these objects carry their history in their linings, and old paper, old glue, old paint, and old mothproofing do not become pleasant with age. A trunk that has been sealed since the Eisenhower administration needs air, patience, and sometimes a complete interior removal before it belongs in a room where people sit.

Anyone unwilling to do that work should buy the cleaner piece and pay the difference, because the smell is the one flaw that no amount of brass polish will fix.

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