The Times - UK (2022-02-23)

(Antfer) #1
4 Wednesday February 23 2022 | the times

fashion


W


ould I spend
£1,800 on a
handbag
now? No.
Do I regret
doing so in
the past?
Also no.
When I started out in fashion, rare
was the editor who paid for her own
bag — the newest and It-iest styles
just turned up at their desks every six
months. Sadly, those days are gone.
So when I got my first big
promotion a decade ago, I saved up for
close to a year to buy this £1,800
Phoebe Philo-era piece of Celine
luggage. The handbagscape was
different then — high street versions
were not only not that cheap, but also
pretty terrible (the arrival of Cos and
& Other Stories was a game-changer).
There were no rental companies and
far fewer independent brands offering
something a little smaller and more
kooky for a quarter of the price than
there are now. It was designer label —
and price tag — or bust.
My boss back then had a
spreadsheet in which she entered the

pros and cons of every style she was
considering, and “test drove” them on
her lunch break before making her
choice (a Fendi 2jours: £2,000 but very
roomy, removable strap, fits A4 and
laptop, came with a nice flappy
luggage tag). A friend went to New
York for work and came back with a
white leather Marc Jacobs bag that she
didn’t like simply because she had
been able to afford it.
Even once I’d amassed the requisite
eye-watering sum for my Celine bag, it
still took me months to commit: I’m
not a trust-fund kid, £1,800 was (still
is) a huge amount of money to me. I’d
walk into posh shops around the world
on holiday and work trips to see if the
exchange rate might do me any
favours (it never did) then leave
sweaty-palmed and full of adrenaline,
as though I’d been caught stealing.
When I finally decided to buy mine,
I felt physically sick as I paid and then

... delighted. It’s embarrassing to
admit, but this bag helped me to feel
like less of a non-trust-fund impostor
at work. I knew I could do the job, but
I wanted to look like someone who
could do it too. I still love it, although I
use it less often these days — don’t we
all, after lockdown killed off the
commuter tote? Yet I know it will be in
rotation for the foreseeable. It goes to
important meetings, is perfect for
travelling and it looks as good with a


When I decided


to buy mine, I felt


physically sick —


then delighted


suit as it does with jeans. Mine wasn’t
the “It bag” of the season — I
deliberately chose a style that had had
less exposure, and this has prolonged
its shelf life. It’s a design classic, smart
but quite stealthy and can fit a make-
up bag, umbrella and packed lunch.
I’m emotionally attached to this
bag but, if it enters a fallow period
that begins to feel terminal, there are
versions of it listed on designer resale
sites for £1,000 or more. That makes it
significantly better value for money
than most new cars.
That said, there’s no way now, with
two kids, a mortgage and a near-
constant acute sense of dread, that I’d
pay so much for a bag. I don’t think I
could afford one these days: what used
to cost £1,200 when I was saving is
now £2,200. Chanel’s famous 2.55
clocks in at £3,260 for a mini version
(15.5cm x 20cm x 6cm), a price that
has nearly doubled in the past five
years. Louis Vuitton last week raised
its prices again, as have Gucci and
Dior recently. Top brands cite the
same production and supply crisis that
is making your weekly shop more
expensive, but prices have risen since
China opened up, because demand
there regularly outstrips supply. Some
labels have bought their own farms so
they don’t have to rely on external
leathers and exotic skins.
“The more detailing you have
pushes the price up,” says Leeanne
Hundleby, co-founder of the
Edinburgh-based brand Strathberry.
“We decided to keep top-quality
materials and design accessible. Ours
cost around £400 to £600.”
There are other things that push up
prices. The type of skin, whether
bog-standard cowhide or — gulp —
pony, lamb or “exotics” (snake,
crocodile or alligator, although many
labels and retailers have banned these
in recent years). The design matters
too — smaller pieces of hide stitched
together are cheaper than one
unbroken piece, which requires better
quality and more careful dyeing. How
much structure is involved, pockets,
and how much chunky metallic
hardware drips from its zips all factor
into the final price.
“Bigger brands have more overheads
to cover,” adds Guy Hundleby,
Strathberry’s other co-founder. “But
putting up their prices can create
exclusivity. A higher price isn’t
necessarily off-putting — it makes
their bags more sought-after too.”
I got my first fashion job in 2007
shortly before Burberry released its
metal-plated Warrior style in rare
alligator skin. It was a snip at £13,000
and landed in shops a month before
Bear Stearns collapsed. Luxury prices
nosedived in its wake and then soared
once more when the trickle-up
benefits of quantitative easing became
clear. They’ve been on the ascent
since — although inflation, slow
growth in China and a cryptocurrency
bust may yet check them.

The rise of smaller cross-body styles
in recent years is as much a financial
trend as a fashion one: they’re
cheaper. Chunky, structured — what
I still think of as “grown-up” — totes
start at £350 on the high street. At
labels such as Strathberry, DeMellier,
Danse Lente and Mansur Gavriel
that money will net you something
smaller but far cooler and less
ubiquitous. Ferian’s bags are a little
more expensive at £500ish, but
they are handmade to order in
England and look about three
times the price.
Yet — and I’m sure many of our
more Lutheran readers will disagree
— there are occasions when a
designer logo is a nice boost. I don’t
regret shelling out for mine, but I can
appreciate that owning an expensive
bag makes less sense now that trends
are so fleeting they can feel old after a
couple of Instagram posts. I’m lucky,
when I fancy a change, to be able to
fall back on what I call my “archive”
and my husband calls “do you really
need all of these, they are taking up
too much room”.
Twitter: @harrywalker1

How much would you pay for an


The price of handbags is soaring. Now


you can rent one. Is buying a luxury bag


so last season, asks Harriet Walker


Celine


Harriet: I bought it


for £1,800


I’d rather borrow a


luxury bag than buy it


Hannah


Rogers


P


erhaps you’ve been wondering
where fashion editors and
street-stylers keep the infinite
variety of new bags and shoes
they are so often
photographed with. Extensive attic
space? Big Yellow storage unit?
Iceberg house with an accessories
basement? In truth, they don’t: the
fashion set are big on borrowing.
Many of their It bags used to come
with a “SAMPLE — NOT FOR SALE”
sticker on the lining.
It was much the same at the London
shows over the weekend, only the
smorgasbord of designer accessories
that the front row was decorated with
had not been lifted from a press office
or magazine fashion cupboard. No,
this season’s prize tissue and receipt
receptacles had been rented.
I would know — the £2,220 pink
and red Gucci bag I have strapped to
my person in the above picture came
into my possession not by way of a
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