The world seems to get loopier by the minute, so I am delighted to bring you news of one small way in which it is becoming more sane. In fashion, until recently, the only desirable handbag was a new one. “It bags” have come in all shapes and sizes over the years. We have lived through and lusted after the Paddington by Chloé, the Bayswater by Mulberry, Gucci’s Jackie bag, Dior’s Saddle and the Bottega Veneta Cassette.
The bag of the moment has been teeny tiny one season, and sack-like the next. It has been understated and in-the-know some years, brash and statement-making in others. But through every chop and change, there has been one constant: we wanted our bags box-fresh and brand-new.
The dream was gleaming hardware, straight-out-of-the-dust-bag leather, a pert silhouette unstretched by use. But finally, fashion has fallen for the charms of love-worn handbags. As vintage has become a flex, bags that look as if they’ve lived a life are now seen as status symbols. At Balenciaga, bags on the catwalk now come scuffed and softened. At Coach, they have graffiti scribbles on them. At Bottega Veneta, they have rolled-up newspapers sticking out of them. At Miu Miu they have spare shoes poking out and emergency sweaters looped through their handles.
The new obsession with old handbags is changing the way bags are made and marketed. The hottest bag of 2025 is Louis Vuitton’s reissue of a collaboration with Takasha Murakami from more than 20 years ago. The Haribo-bright monogram on white, a Y2K-meets-pop-art take on the brown and gold classic Vuitton colours, looks as good now as it did when it was launched in 2003. I’ve still got mine from the first time around and the reissue reminded me to take it out of retirement. When I put it away, I remember thinking it was past its best because it looked old – but in our more vintage-enlightened era, I love it all the more for looking as if it has been around the block a few times.
The British film director Joanna Hogg, who made The Souvenir, recently made a 23-minute film for Miu Miu about the life of a white handbag, following it from unboxing to old age. All of this adds up to a radical new perspective: bags don’t have to be spanking new to be desirable. This is deeply, wonderfully sane. Because when you find a bag that you love to use, rather than just love to look at, you love it more every day. A new bag is an unknown quantity, because bags only reveal their strengths and weaknesses when tested out in the wild.
after newsletter promotion
Some bags turn out to have a Tardis-like ability to fit everything you need without looking as if you are carting luggage around: but you won’t know this until you’ve road tested it. Other bags have an incredibly annoying tendency to suck objects into dark depths so that you can never find anything. A frazzled rummage to locate a ringing phone is not fun.
We need to rethink the way we buy handbags. A couple of years ago, I decided to give myself a Loewe basket bag as a birthday treat. In the store, I asked to see the bags I was considering, and proceeded to decant my possessions into each one to see if they would fit, walking around the store to see if the strap would dig in or the weight would bounce at an awkward point.
The sales assistants were charming but clearly thought I was eccentric. But you wouldn’t buy a coat without trying it on over your jumper. Why should buying a bag be different? Still, a new bag is always a punt. And you know what makes a bag more valuable than any designer price tag? The confidence of knowing it will do the job. The battle scars and wrinkles of age don’t detract from its worth, they prove it.
The best new bag is an old bag. At last, something that makes sense.
Model: Tomiris at Milk. Styling assistant: Sam Deaman. Hair and makeup: Sophie Higginson using Davines and Charlotte Tilbury. Dress, £270, Essentiel Antwerp. Earrings, £37, & Other Stories. Bag, £129, Dune London
This post was originally published on this site be sure to check out more of their content.
