Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Kayleigh Donaldson | Celebrity | June 25, 2026
There are a few items that have become cultural indicators of wealth, those displays of your bulging bank account that brag to the world about your ability to spend it without a second thought. They're usually high-class brands or something so flashy that its cost cannot be denied: think Cartier watches, private jets, dinner at Nobu, and front row seats at the Lakers. In the fashion world, overpriced exclusivity is the name of the game, and one company's done it better than anyone else. Now, however, the backlash is brewing.
The Birkin Bag started out of necessity for one woman. Jane Birkin, the legendary English actress and singer who became one of the defining It Girls of her generation, was known for carrying around a wicker basket instead of a purse. She wanted something large enough to carry everything she needed, especially after she had kids. While travelling on a flight, her basket tumbled out of the overhead compartment and spilled its contents across the floor. The man sitting next to her asked Jane why she didn't get a stylish bag with some pockets. "Hermès doesn't make pockets," she replied. The man replied, "But I am Hermès!" He was Jean-Louis Dumas, then CEO of Hermès, and on the spot, he drew up plans for a large bag with pockets and enough space to carry everything from nappies and screenplays to make-up and junk. Dumas offered to produce the bag and name it after Birkin, to which she agreed. Soon, the Birkin was the must-own bag in fashion.
The hook of the Birkin is its exclusivity. It's not just that they're obscenely expensive: it's that you have to essentially be invited to buy one, and the process can take years before you can even take it home. Some people have reported a six-year wait for their Birkin. Because each bag is made by a single craftsperson by hand, and can be made in a variety of hides, they have a reputation for being the finest of the finest. Many high fashion companies made their own It bags in the ensuing decades, but it was the Birkin that retained its glamour. In a world where money can get you anything at any time, there was something to be said about being made to wait. This means, of course, that counterfeits are plentiful, the resale market is insane, and the battle for the real thing has only gotten messier.
The Birkin does not necessarily look like an object of conspicuous consumption, at least if you're unfamiliar with handbag lore. It's not designed to stand out in a crowd like a Moschino boxing glove bag, nor is it slathered in a brand's logo like a Louis Vuitton or Dolce & Gabbana number. It certainly looks expensive but it's also meant to be a long-term item you carry around for decades. Remember, it was made for a woman who never followed trends and who had practicality in mind with its design. But now, it's unavoidably a sign of your wealth, in large part because it's become a benchmark for people to show off how rich they've become. You're an influencer who's gone from filming morning routines in your bathroom to landing a boring podcast where you chat to A-Listers? You bought a Birkin. You won a reality TV show? You bought a Birkin. You're a Kardashian? You bought seven or eight Birkins.
Now, it seems as though I see nothing but Birkins on my social media feeds. Whenever I see the same bland coterie of influencers, Bravo ladies, and vaguely recognisable celebrities on my Instagram recommends, I encounter the same cycle of products: matcha lattes, Lululemon leggings for Pilates, bad lip fillers, and the Birkin. The homogeny of this cycle of fame makes everything seem both dull and tacky. You have all that money and you use it to be like everyone else?
The lie of "quiet luxury" is that it's not rooted in bragging rights. Of course it is! It's still a way to broadcast to the world that you're too rich to care about the price tag, even if the items in question don't seem particularly extravagant or costly at first glance. Spending $5k on a jacket from The Row that looks like it came from a thrift shop isn't something you do because you just love the piece that much: you do it to prove that you're wealthy enough to drop $5k on something nondescript, and the people who know will know, and they'll fume. The trendification of everything means that, sooner or later, even those "quiet" brands or symbols of wealth will be hijacked and turned into something to yell about. Now, the Birkin is so synonymous with the harried scramble to prove your wealth that it cannot help but seem kind of tacky.
Yeah, this is all some hardcore first world problems and I don't feel sorry for any society darling who's afraid of having something in common with a commoner. But it does reveal the ways that high fashion and overconsumption are and always have been a chase to be better than everyone else. If you make something hyper-elite and rare, then make people jump through hoops to get it, of course everyone will want to join in and feel special. And of course eventually it will attract a demographic you didn't initially seek, and all your snooty pals will be mad about it. Now, you can buy second-hand Birkins on Amazon. Truly, the nail in the coffin.
Jane Birkin, by the way, had a mixed relationship with the bag that took her name. She used her own version for a while but asked that Hermès rename it when she protested the conditions of the slaughterhouses used to acquire the crocodile skin for one variant of the bag. She later said she was satisfied with Hermès's changes to the system. The bag Jane used was battered, covered in stickers and well-worn from daily use. It reflected her life, one that was always on the move and unconcerned with resale value or keeping up appearances. After her death, the bag sold at auction for around $10 million. It will probably sit in a museum now, or be hoarded by some rich loser until they can make more money from it. Jane would probably have preferred it go on to be well-loved by someone who needed it. Maybe I'm too poor for all of this (and unstylish, given that I use a torn messenger bag), but treating handbags like a guy on eBay reselling Pokémon cards seems kind of gauche.
