Beauty and the Beast(s): A Porsche, a Panerai and a purse (Birkin)!
"Just look at me here in all my lusciousness. You want to touch me again. I can sense it. My flesh is soft and supple, as you're no doubt aware. People think I'm unattainable and that they'll never be this close to me. That's untrue."
"Really? That's not the impression given, that's for sure!"
"Do you know who I am?"
"You mean do I know what you are and the answer is yes. It's obvious just by looking at you."
"Then you're also aware that I cannot and will not be ignored. I demand that you pay attention to me. Treat me with the same irrational reverence that the drones at The Purse Forum treat me."
I laughed lightly at the thought of this and continued to fold my clothes neatly and place them into my one of my Keepalls, having finished packing his. I heavily considered an item and then purchased at my leisure, not anyone else's, so that's why the statement amused me. However, I couldn't resist striking a sideways glance at its strong presence and unmistakable contours.
"You're incapable of hiding your thrill of finally owning me. Let's do something I want to do."
I stood upright and placed a hand on my hip.
"I need to get these bags packed. We're leaving for Thanksgiving today. We don't have time to do what you want to do."
"Take my picture."
I furrowed my brow at the thought of actually taking the picture of a purse, especially this purse which was already very conceited. It didn't need a bigger clochette than it already had.
"We don't have time. We'll do it some other day. I just don't have the time to take glamour shots of talking handbags."
"I want-a my picture taken too!"
"You be quiet!" I snapped.
"Look, Posh, just take a few pictures of me, and maybe that other thing that came, and I won't say a word on the entire trip. Surely, my silence is worth that to you."
I couldn't say that it wasn't. The bag had been especially chatty since it'd arrived.
"I'll even tell you some secrets about me and Hermes while we take them."
I nodded reluctantly and got out the camera, which had been acting strangely since I dropped it. I picked up the prized bag and a small box and walked into the corner of the dining room. The bag seemed pleased, like it had manipulated me into doing something when it was the bag that had been suckered. I couldn't wait to hear what it had to say! I started the photo shoot and tried to hide my giddiness at it the idea of it all: I finally had my own Birkin. A red Birkin.
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"Yes, this is the angle. It shows my light veining and impeccable structure. You probably think I'm red, don't you? You're that gauche. Red is what you call a purse from Target. I'm Rouge Garrance in Fjord leather. Fjord isn't quite as "slouchy," I believe that's the term I want, as, say, Togo or Clemence. I've got a bit more backbone than either of them."
I sighed. "I want the good stuff, Birkin. I know all this about you."
"I'm getting there. I can tell by your face that you know nothing about the details on me. I want to make sure you know that I'm not just another leather bag. I'm a mobile symbol of status that tells the world who you are; I am mute testimony that you're either well-bred or well-kept. Now take more pictures!"
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"Hermes, the company founded by Thierry Hermes, opened it's doors in Paris in 1837, which was the same year that Charles Lewis Tiffany set up shop in New York. Hermes specialized in horse gear, things like harnesses and saddles. We have a good solid 19 years on Tanner Krolle! Has any monarchy ever held up a royal coronation for their wares? No, I don't think so. That's happened on several occasions throughout the years for us."
I turned the bag around to examine the back, which was as perfect as the front. The smell of the leather was intoxicating as it wafted up during the spin around, bringing back to me all my memories of being at Hermes.
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Hermes has been almost entirely family-owned and operated since its inception. It had been guided, deftly, to the position it attained today by Jean-Louis Dumas, who was the son of Robert Dumas who married one of the three daughter's of Thierry's son, Emile. It was under him the the Birkin was born.
"Do you know how I was created? I was created in response to a frantic request by Jane Birkin as her things fell out of her purse into the aisle in first class during a flight. She wondered why a bag couldn't easily carry all her things at once. Jean-Louis Dumas was next to her, fatefully, and they collaborated on a bag that would be big enough for her. A few weeks later he sent one of my sisters to her . . . and a bill for payment. You didn't think she got it for free, did you? Ha!"
The bag was a blowhard and not a bit shy. I turned it around and examined the latch. I hadn't taken off the protective plastic. I wanted to leave it on until the last possible moment. The engravings were spot on: light but crisp with the perfect amount of depth. I was shocked at the quality. Well, not really, considering the price. But in the rep game, you tended to either be surprised or disappointed, never in between.
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"Open me."
With pleasure, I thought. This wasn't a watch seller's side job Birkin sale, no. This was crafted with care by someone who knew how, albeit in a factory not at all like a certain company's in France. The stamp, which was not sloppy in the slightest, was familiar to me.
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"I'm not scarce either. I never was. Yes, there is a "waitlist," but it's largely fictitious and part of my mystique. I can be special-ordered or purchased off one of the shelves, if you're not picky about size or leather. I can come back from being order in as little as two months, hardly the "years" people bandy about without knowing."
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I blanched as my eyes slowly went over the magnificent indentations. Wait, wasn't the whole thing behind this purse the fact that not just anyone could get it? Hmmmm, this sounded weird. I was almost distracted by the thought as I pulled the zipper of the inside pocket and it glided quickly, smoothly, just like genuine. I was getting goosebumps.
"That doesn't sound right at all. I thought you were coveted and desired but largely unavailable to the unwashed, not unlike myself?! That's what they said on the The Purse Forum anyway. I mean, how else could people resell a bag for more than it costs to walk into a boutique and buy it?"
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"Firstly, I don't know you very well but you don't look unavailable to me, especially with that much eyeshadow. And, secondly, why would you believe people who actually believe that Hermes hand-stitches everything they make?"
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I thought about what the talking handbag said rationally while investigating the superb stitching of the handles, which was as I remembered from all my handling of genuine Birkins. I thought like a businesswoman instead of a looney, Hermes-obsessed Internet know-it-all. It started to make more sense. I think the hamster wheel in my mind was squeaky because the Birkin began speaking like it could hear it spinning, telling me concretely what I didn't think of at all before.
"A publicly-traded company that went from $82 million in 1982 to $446.4 million in 1989 and then hit sales of $2.1 billion by 2007? That doesn't happen when you're holding out on merchandise. And you can believe when I say that doesn't happen with a bunch of people stitching things by hand. I'm not even completely made by hand! A few saddle stitches here and there but not as many as you think."
I was nonplussed. Could the bag be trusted with such information? After all, it's a replica, not the real thing. Where was Bringing Home the Birkin maven Michael Tonnello when you needed him! But didn't he prove the key to bagging the Birkin was to actually spend lots of money in the store?
"Can I come out now?"
I was jarred from my reverie by what seemed like the sound of a disoriented pre-pubescent boy. For a split second, I knew what it was like to be a guest in the Sandusky household. I chuckled a little, grimaced and then look at the box I'd brought out with the Birkin.
"Oh, I forgot about that thing!" The bag exclaimed, intrigued.
"I have no idea why you're even here, " I said.
"Really? You didn't buy it for Greg or he for himself?"
"No, it wasn't purchased. I got it as a gift from a RepGeek member who I gave a set of All-Clad pans to as a housewarming gift. We're friends from back when I first joined up. He just got his first house too!"
"And he sent you that thing?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "Yes. He said he'd send me the one thing, as a thank you, that he KNEW I didn't have. I told him there was nothing he could possibly buy me that I didn't already have or couldn't buy for myself. I'll never make an absolute statement like that ever again."
"Oh, let the thing take pictures with me. Pretty please?"
I opened the box and placed the Panerai on the Birkin.
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"I didn't say pictures on me!"
"Weeeeeeeeeee!" The Panerai exclaimed.
"I'm not a ride at Disneyland, twerp. You're no lightweight either!"
I was completely uninitiated to the Panerai. It was brash, unrefined and seemed to be mocking me with its large, expansive dial. It reminded me of the toy clocks that they taught us to tell time on back in elementary school. Frankly, I did not see the allure for any adult unless they were in their 60s. Old eyes need large dials!
"I'm a 111M."
"Who asked you, kid?"
"Okay, so what does that mean?" I asked.
"Well, I'm a 111M from the Noob Factory. You may have read about me all over RepGeek. Toro Bravo even did a break down of me with a genuine 111. I'm so close it's scary! Look!"
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I flipped the 111 over so it could show his exhibition back with genuine sapphire glass. The 'Officine Panerai' was engraved, not painted, onto the platinum-plated, high-beat movement.
"What do you mean "genuine," kid? You're not a real Panerai?"
"No, I'm a fake. A very good fake but definitely a fake."
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I started to fidget. The bag looked at me. Well, it looked at me the same no matter what but I could feel it staring at me.
"Does this mean . . . I'm fake too?"
"Oh, Birkin! I wanted to tell you but you were so proud of yourself. I couldn't let you know. I didn't want to hurt you."
"You didn't pay $10,375 for me at 24?"
"Oh, f*ck no. LOL. I would never spend that amount of money on anything except a municipal bond!"
"You could have saved up and bought me, you cheap b*tch!"
"No bad words," the 111 creaked.
"Shut up, twerp! This is between me and Filene's Dumpster."
"Look, you used to cost about $4,000 back in 2001. If I was someone else and started saving $40 a month until now, I still wouldn't be able to afford you. They keep moving the goal post."
"Does that mean you should buy counterfeit goods? Is Hermes' intellectual property and brand, which you obviously like, you golddigging tramp, not worth what they ask for it?"
"Yes, but I don't care. I could afford you but I'm simply very stingy with my money but definitely want designer things. Does that make me bad?"
"Uh, yeah. Eat Top Ramen and turn the heat off like the other Purse Forum chicks. You're what's wrong with America! You feel entitled to what other's have but you don't want to work for it. Shouldn't you be occupying Wall Street or a maybe street corner somewhere?"
"Um, wow. You're pretty surly for a fake handbag!"
We sat in silence. I had an idea.
"I'll take you both for a ride in the Panamera and we'll take pictures at a rest stop on the way to mom and dad's for Thanksgiving."
"Done. We're BFFs again!"
"Can I take a picture with Birkin before we go?"
"Sure!"
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"You know, Posh, I may have been a little harsh before. Can we forget the past and just enjoy the holiday?"
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"Sure, Birkin. I do like you and I enjoy not paying retail. Maybe the respect I have for you will make your fakeness easier to deal with. It was very hard to find you. I mean, I spent months and months. I checked out all the usual suspects!"
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"Like?"
"Well, I found out that Birkins, really good ones, only com from a couple of places and that many of the legendary sellers all get them from the same places. So, while it may appear that they are coming from all kinds of places, including, allegedly, Korea, they are not."
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"How's this pose?"
"Great! Yeah, marketing happens in the world of replicas too. Fake Birkins are made primarily in China, like everything else in the world. The ones from the big name Hermes sellers comes from there as well. There probably isn't a Korean super fake, just Chinese super fakes."
"This is boring!"
"Let the kid take a picture with me back here before I kill him."
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"The one place that drove me crazy was TaoBao but I managed to figure it out. It's like Ebay but completely in Chinese and barely regards copyright, trademark and IP laws. Birkin shopping there was quite an eye-opening treat. I found it easier to bargain for the same quality Birkins on the streets of China. I wouldn't pay more than 1,000 to maybe 2,000 yuan for one like that."
"What about exotic skins?"
"Well, exotics are tougher. Stateside, you can get them from where I got you for about $3,000. They're less expensive in China, of course. I wouldn't buy a crocodile fake Birkin because they often use endangered crocodiles to make those bags. I prefer my fakes cruelty-free!"
"My turn, my turn!"
"That has got to be the most annoying watch on earth," the Birkin commented.
"Tell me about it."
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"Closer!"
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"This is fun!"
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"Closer! Closer!"
"Gosh, he's worse than you, Birkin."
"Can it, Filene."
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"Now, I'm getting bored. Can we go back to taking pictures of me now? I want some outdoorsy ones. I like me in natural light!"
"Two more, please, Posh?"
"Fine! Ya know, you two are the pushiest fakes I know and I went to two political fundraisers last month!"
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"Now, I want to drive!"
"Pretend to drive you mean."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
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"Try me on, Posh!"
"Uh, I don't like you at all, 111."
"Oh, try him on before he throws another tantrum."
"You're too heavy, 111. You're interesting and all in your, um, largeness but you're trying too hard. I can't believe there are watches even larger than you. I look cute in it but men who wear watches like this with scrawny wrists (and aren't tall), look anemic."
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"Posh?"
"Yes, 111?"
"You're a b*tch."
"He's got you there, Filene. Let's get some outside pictures for my Facebook page."
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"It's warm under here. Let's take one in the hatch!"
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"Now on it!"
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"Now, an artistic one."
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"Now casual! I want to look approachable."
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"I want to look tall now. Make me look tall."
"How do I do that? You're a handbag."
"I don't know. Put me on the roof! I know I look perfect."
"Actually, even though you may feel perfect, you're not. But I know where your only flaw is and it doesn't show up in any of your photos or the photos of you we won't use. Even though you were very expensive, that doesn't mean you are 100%. There's just different flaws at different price points and you have to decide which ones you can live with but also remember which "flaws" are just contrived by your paranoia."
"I guess the old adage is true: nobody's perfect!"
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"I hope you guys had fun because now it's time to hit the road."
"Posh, come on! We need a group photo!"
"Put me on, Posh!"
"Oh, all right! You're both too famous around here for your own good. I don't do anything for D-Listers."
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"Posh, are you going to tell people how to buy me? Not that I condone counterfeit goods. I'm just so turned on by my own quality that I want others to indulge in it."
"LOL. Pobably only if they're VIP members and/or I know them. And they better have more than 100 posts. What do you think?"
"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me."
Comments and questions are always welcome! Enjoy the season!
