An Ode to the Kate Spade New York of the Nineties

Certain sensory memories become so imbued in our beings that it becomes somewhat tricky – nigh, impossible – to shake them off later in life.

The (still) terrifying sound of a dental drill from your first trip to the dentist. The heady smell of chlorine (and pee) from your first time in a swimming pool. The tingling of raindrops on your skin from that time you were caught in a drizzle.

Visually, one such memory of mine harks back to polka dots. Bright red polka dots on blush pink satin. Milky white polka dots on sage green silk. Glittery gold polka dots on brocade black. But strangely enough, much of those polka dots have nothing to do with clothing whatsoever, or for that matter, table or homeware.

Instead, they were on the insides of purses. More specifically, Kate Spade purses. I’m not alone in my near-fetishization of colorful purse-linings.

Spade’s brightly striped, vibrantly checkered, or otherwise resplendently patterned interiors spoke to a large subset of women, whether they grew up hailing yellow cabs on the Upper East Side or schlepping lunch and libations to the Financial District.

As a writer for the NPR recounts, “it was all so gay and lively. The fun part of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, before they start looking for Cat in the rain.”

In fact, the very name of Kate Spade New York still retains the power to send women – in both New York and beyond – reeling in nostalgia. So, in the wake of its latest revival of the nineties’ nylon shoulder bag, it’s only fitting that we pay tribute to the designer that for so many served as the ne plus ultra of cool adulting.

Your Favorite Designer’s Favorite Designer

When you carry a handbag every day with someone’s name on it, you begin to develop a sense of intimacy with them; they’re privy to your deepest, darkest secrets, after all.

With her trusty carryalls – familiar in the vein of an Audrey Hepburn-esque piece, yet desirable in their simplicity – Kate had managed become more than yet another parasocial acquaintance, she’d become a friend for countless women as they transitioned into adulthood – and someone they aspired to be.

After all, her own rags-to-riches story of making it big in the Big City is no less than a modern-day fairy-tale, setting the groundwork for a slew of young American designers, from Tory Burch and Mansur Gavriel, to Jenna Lyons of J. Crew.

Born Katherine Brosnahan in Kansas, she moved to New York in 1986 with “seven dollars in her pocket” and took up employment at the now-defunct Mademoiselle magazine as an accessories’ editor. It was there that she felt the acute need for a handbag “somewhere between L.L. Bean and Prada in both design and price,” while also expertly marrying fashion and function à la Bonnie Cashin at Coach.

And in a moment no less serendipitous than the Birkin’s genesis, Andy Spade, friend, business partner, and future husband to Kate, suggested while they dined at a Mexican restaurant: “What about handbags?” And I said, honey, you just don’t start a handbag company. And he said, why not? How hard can it be?”

The rest, as they say, is quite literally history.

The Austere Americana of the Sam

By 1993, Kate Spade – a moniker derived from the names of the two founders – had developed six distinct styles that it was offering from a booth at the Javits Center accessories shows, even managing to sell a few to Barney’s.

It wasn’t enough, however, to cover costs. So, as this acclaimed New York Times piece reports, “The night before her second show, Ms. Spade on an impulse ripped her small logo from the inside and sewed it to the outside of the bags, deciding they needed something to attract the eye. She was up all night, got puffy fingers, but it worked: the little logo created a name brand.”

Featured in that lineup was a no-frills shoulder bag, a messenger bag, a backpack, a dainty wicker bag, and most prominently, the Sam – a boxy nylon satchel with perfect over-the-shoulder straps, and no embellishments save for a name tag spelling Kate Spade New York in all lowercase Baskerville. “I want something for my eye to go…and that was it,” Spade confided to the CBS in 1999.

Retailing for $150 and $450, they hit the sweet-spot of aspirational. Neither passé like a Coach logo wristlet, nor mournfully marked-up like a Prada Backpack or a Dior Saddle, they were just within your reach if you hoarded those babysitting dollars, or within that of your parents to serve as an ideal present at your bat mitzvah.

Does the Lightning Ever Strike Twice?

But of course, Kate Spade today looks nothing like it did back in the heyday of the Sam. In fact, following the Sam’s retail success – a keystone in the contemporary brand landscape – the Spades sold 56% of their stake to the Neiman Marcus Group in 1999, followed by the remaining 44% seven years later. As of 2017, the label stands acquired by Tapestry, Inc., also the holding company behind Coach.

Ms. Spade herself struggled with the detachment from her namesake, seeking creative outlets through a new, lesser-known accessories line, Frances Valentine, in 2016 (and even changing her own name to Kate Valentine) before tragically passing away in 2018, an affair that reverberated deeply with longtime fans.

Following the dear designer’s departure, the brand has undergone creative leadership under Deborah Lloyd and Nicola Glass (formerly of Burberry and Gucci respectively), taking a more playful turn where it’s become better known for its more novelty accessories than its functional origins.

In its attempt to keep that spark alive, however, the brand has revived the Sam bag multiple times, first in Spring 2018 for its 25th anniversary, and later again in 2023, rendered in the 100% recycled polyester KSNYL.

Latest in this lineup of resurgences is its Urban Outfitters collab, where the brand’s throwback-favorite shoulder bags have been revived in three limited-edition colorways – black-and-white polka dots, rainbow stripes and all-black.

Once seen on noughties’ darlings, like Winona Ryder, Meg Ryan and Gwyneth Paltrow, they’ve become the favorites of modern-day tastemakers, like Rachel Sennott. Retailing for $188, they’re also reassuringly close to their original price-point.

But with the widespread proliferation of the Kate Spade name (not to mention, an equally vibrant counterfeit-culture), is this collab likely to garner much more than temporary hype?

While Kate Spade never sought to be exclusive—in fact, her whole ethos was to serve women that other designers mightn’t think of as cool—how its current creatives draw the line between inclusive and uncool remains to be seen.

Until then, all we could do is get ourselves a piece from this (surprisingly affordable) drop, and dress up like it’s the nineties. After all, it was Ms. Spade herself who said, “I think that playing dress up begins at age five and never truly ends.”