Page 28 - The Hunt - Spring 2020

Sinclair has a passion for vintage cars both large (right) and small (below).
Chase. Their daughter, 13-year-old Elizabeth, is at school.
As we go from room to room, the flow of the conversation shifts as we view a diverse collection of signed photos from celebrities like auto designer and racer Carroll Shelby (Sinclair once drove a blue Shelby), singer, songwriter and actor Kris Kristofferson, and ill-fated Sex Pistols bassist Sid Vicious. A curious guest could take up to an hour perusing the walls from the living room to the dining room. Even in the mudroom, there’s a small but impressive grouping of Bangsite (calcium carbide) toy artillery cannons. “Some people associate collecting with clutter, but it’s not the same,” says Sinclair. “It’s really about a passion for something you love, and you want to have other things like it.”
Moving through the house, we pass a mantel with many of Elizabeth’s ribbons for show jumping and fox hunting. “She’s just as good as a figure skater as she is on horses,” says Sinclair, adding that she’s not yet sure which sport she’ll pursue.
Finally, we arrive in Sinclair’s study, a contrast of up-to-date computer technology and old- fashioned memorabilia. He opens a desk drawer to show me the historic cigar bands he inherited from his late brother. Other boxes contain the military patch collection, along with Sinclair’s gear from his Boy Scout days.
Then I get a glimpse of the Soviet-era military uniforms. Sinclair became fascinated when the Soviet Union was disbanded in
1991—and cash-hungry bureaucrats sold everything they could get their hands on. He bought his first Russian uniform in 1997, and he set about becoming an expert on the subject.
The more Sinclair learned about the uniforms, the more he purchased—mainly ones from 1935 to 1945 and primarily through a broker he still works with. “I have every branch variation from the beginning to the end of the war,” he says. “I bought the best of the best as it became available.”
The jacket worn by Stalin has minute holes in the fabric. “Those weren’t made by moths,” Sinclair says. “Stalin smoked a pipe, and those are tiny burn marks.”
A closet contains only a few items in
his uniform collection. A majority of it
is housed in a storage facility that keeps works of art secure in a temperature-
and humidity-controlled environment.
Back at the computer, Sinclair pulls up old Time magazine covers featuring Russian generals
in uniforms that are now in his collection. On a nearby coffee table are two beautifully illustrated volumes that detail the collection, both of them written and edited by Sinclair.
Surprisingly, the uniforms are something Sinclair probably won’t keep. “It’s my hope
that one day the entire collection will be
in the Hermitage,” he says, referring to the famous museum in St. Petersburg. As Russian nationalism has grown in recent years, oligarchs have shown interest in buying the collection. Sinclair has been in talks with Sotheby’s auction house about brokering a private sale. Malcolm Forbes’ family sold his collection of Russian Fabergé eggs in a similar manner in 2004.
Before I leave, Sinclair autographs his latest book, a catalog of the hundreds of cigar bands, with a cover that approximates a cigar box.
He may no longer be on the road, but he has no problem keeping busy.
Visit www.thesinclaircollection.com.
26 THE HUNT MAGAZINE spring 2020