Hot Take: Is Your Bag Ruining Your Outfit?

Truth be told, there isn’t a single article of clothing I detest as much as the sweater.

Take, for instance, Miranda’s searing takedown of Andy’s tragic cerulean Casual Corner acquisition – perfectly justified in my books. And those Nancy Meyers maidens drowning their heartaches in big tubs of Häagen-Dazs and even more oversized cable knits?

Nothing chic over there! What of those gaudy Christmas jumpers out of milquetoast Hallmark movies, you ask? More like hallmarks of humdrum, I say!

But the turtleneck stands tall in a sea of sweaters—neutered, nerdy, and nondescript. 

It’s a solitary outpost of sinewy seduction amidst shapeless stretches of heavy-knit visual birth control. Perhaps that has something to do with its light asphyxiation on the throat: perverse, yet risqué. Or maybe it’s the ease of switching up its silhouette – with jeans, you’re vaguely geeky; with a pantsuit, you mean business; while a short skirt with, it feels flirty – you’re out to have fun, and fun you shall have!

Clearly, Gloria Steinem and Alan Rickman’s secretary from Love Actually were onto something because the turtleneck is a versatile top – for other versatile tops!

Imagine the depths of my despair, therefore, when I discovered that my singularly treasured turtleneck – a prized black pashmina number – had been snagged and slashed, its unmarred yards of yarn marred by – of all things – my bag!

Now, was I being overdramatic, or was it time for me to swear off of purses forever?

(Or at least, until spring had sprung, and my turtleneck was again retired?)

Pockets or Purses: a Deathless Debate

But my travails with bags had begun even before I squirmed into that tight turtleneck collar for the first time this fall – specifically with handbags of the crossbody variety.

Timeless investment, sure (I’m never letting go of them!), but I’m also no advocate for babying your bags – my hard-wearing Proenza Schouler bears witness to all its years of hard wear (and tear!) What I hadn’t anticipated, however, were the more minor micro-abrasions to my clothes that, with time, weren’t so minor anymore.

I’m talking about pills to pullovers, bruises to blazers, and rips to tees – and not in that grungy way. You see, we purse-lovers (myself included) have come to regard our purses as such an inherently innate extension to our identities – in both a psychological and a physiological sense (it really does feel like a spare limb at this point) – that not carrying one appears non-committal, even naked, regardless of whether that comes at the expense of the rest of our outfits.

After all, our bags are a portable, communicable form of our fashion-forwardness; they add an air of high-maintenance sophistication to our beings, even in Lycra and Lululemons! How can we survive in the world without them?

Plus, is there much of an alternative?

Pockets, of course, are a point of contention among advocates – the same advocates who are also content with shoving their phone, sunglasses, headphones, keys, cards, and chapsticks-like appendages atop their right buttocks and going about their day.

They’ll also be the first to come to a-runnin’ to us for dental floss after a dinner date. And it’ll be our ludicrously capacious bags to the rescue, chiropractors be darned.

Carine Roitfeld: Purseless and Proud

However, it’s not like the proposition of purselessness is without its virtues. 

Because with a big bag comes the itch to fill up every available inch of space: the hardback edition to The Narrow Road to the Deep North that’s languishing in the depths of my purse right now stands as a testament to that.

And it’s this be-prepared-for-anything/flight-or-fight mindset that separates the industry’s biggest bigwigs from us plebeian purse-people. For instance, Anna Wintour, the devil herself, is rarely seen with one, nor, for that matter, is Mary Barra, chief executive of General Motors and Fortune’s most powerful woman in business. It also bears mentioning that Margaret Thatcher was the last female Prime Minister to have a signature bag. And that was in the 80s!

But perhaps the most vocally purseless of people has been Carine Roitfeld, former Editor-in-Chief of Vogue Paris, founder and current editor-in-chief of her namesake CR Fashion Book, and the stylistic mastermind behind that scandalizing Tom Ford for Gucci campaign from 2003 featuring the G-shaped pubic hair.

Playful and punk in equal parts, Roitfeld almost exclusively wears black, famously stopped wearing jeans in 2001, loves heels and loathes purses (“Because usually, I think that bags destroy the look,” she tells Coveteur).

Back pain, though, is really the least of her concerns. 

Instead, she’s one of those pocket-people (“I prefer to have my hands in my pocket than to have a nice little bag,” she adds), a sentiment also echoed by Diana Vreeland (“What do I want with a bloody old handbag that one leaves in taxis and so on?”)

Yet, even Ms. Roitfeld – who certainly has a million assistants (who’d kill for the job) to carry things for her – isn’t immune to the schlep, inevitably winding up with “a plastic bag full of metro tickets, a pack of gum, an umbrella and other realized necessities she couldn’t fit into her pockets” by the end of her workday. 

How could I then, a mere mortal, take a page from her playbook and eschew the purse altogether if she couldn’t?

Quintessence of the Queen (Literally!)

In fact, beyond the confines of our highly specific, chronically online, big-bag-loving community, the carryall seems to suffer from a bit of bad rap – what with that incredibly elitist (but nevertheless true) Succession diatribe, a distressing year for gender dynamics in general, and Vanessa Friedman admitting, “The truth is, the bigger the job, the smaller the handbag — if a handbag comes into play at all.”

Really though, what could be a bigger (or at least, more public-facing) job than (the late) Her Majesty herself? And she, for one, was never without her Tupperware breakfasts, her low-heeled Anello & Davide loafers, and her Launer leather top handles, that she customized, carried and re-carried for decades on end (“They never throw them out, they never get rid of them,” adds Launer CEO Gerald Bodmer).

And that’s really the power of a killer top handle bag. It’s a recurring presence among mood board muses Jackie Kennedy and daughter-in-law Carolyn, the reason why the vanity pouch has been one of the staple styles of the year and has even made its way into the notoriously anti-purse Ms. Roitfeld’s wardrobe in the form of a 40-year-old Hermès Kelly (“Leather is like wine; older is better,” she declares).

The best part? An upright top handle won’t tatter my tees nor fray my fleecy turtlenecks. What they will serve as, however, is a power flex – especially on all those flexing their power sans a purse! Because when you need a spare mint or Aspirin, we’ll have it all (and probably some more).