Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Bag Question- for the gents

Today I received a question regarding my stance on a particular bag and if it is worth the splurge.

I would first like to say that if you truly love a bag, no one can change your mind and you should go for it. If I could buy a Goyard bag right now, I would- I don't care how many people think it is a waste of $ and boring. Life is too short to carry something you absolutely don't love.

But, I would like to throw in my two, unbiased, 3rd party cents.
The bag is question is the Marakami Louis Vuitton bag (see top center of this post for photo). On first blush, I think its fab! I do love it and it is a great twist on the old monogram look (I happen to carry a Speedy 30 myself, so I am a big supporter of LV- both classic and new interpretations). Many people have been disappointed with Marc Jacob's new LV designs, but I am very pro MJ- I think he has done a lot to freshen up the brand and has been an amazing innovator.

My one reservation would be the shelf life of this bag. Do you think you may get tired of the army camo? Is this something that you could see yourself carrying 10 years from now? If there was unlimited money in the world, I would say of course go for it. But if you are going to eat Ramen noodles for a couple months in order to buy the bag (which is totally cool in my book- who needs real food when you have an amazing bag!), I may suggest something a little more timeless such as the Abbesses Messenger Bag (see upper left).

I like to implement something called CPW- Cost Per Wear. If you can guess how many times you will carry it, divide that number by the price. That will let you know how much it will cost each day. I would rather spend an extra couple hundred on a bag I know I will use every day then settle on something that I will not use as often. In the end, having a bag sit in your closet is a giant waste of money (can anyone say Burberry bags?)

Another plus is that it is harder to find and you will most likely never see another person carrying the same bag. That is a huge plus, especially in the age of knockoffs (which I HATE!).
I think if you can't live without it, go for it- as long as you can still pay your bills and you can justify carrying it for years to come.

If you go for it, I will keep my fingers crossed that you get off the waiting list (another wait list tip- call some of the NJ stores, they usually get lots of inventory, but are not as competitive as NYC or LA stores).

Make sure you send any of your bag quandaries my way- always happen to try to help.


Lauren said...

1. GF Ramen? Does such a thing exist?
2. Are you going to blog about a GF restaurant?
3. Love CPW - you should win a Nobel prize in Economics. Just kidding. Mostly.

gsdh22 said...

The quandry is over. After being on several waiting lists, I received news from the Phoenix location that they had the bag for me. It'll be in my hot hands next week.

Strangely, I now feel more complete. Not that a material object makes me a fuller person, but that now I no longer have to pine and worry about losing something I desired so much. I don't usually desire material goods so strongly, but there are missed purchases in my life that continue to haunt me: the Jeff Koons puppy vase I could have had in '04, a pair of 1972 vintage purple/green/blue Nike track shoes I missed in '06, a set of 60+ authentic 8"x 10" black/white autographed photos of burlesque dancers from the 1950's. These are the children I lost. I could not let this Murakami bag become my Sophie's Choice.

While I appreciate (and regularly use) the "price amortization" exercise to justify the cost (price divided by # of uses), I also used the "regret amortization" exercise. I propose that if I paid 50 cents each time I were to think longingly about an item, then I would have been able to by it. It's a tricky approach that requires a good knowledge of one's frequency to regret, a resistance to fads and a lot of quarters.

This may be an elaborate justification for irresponsible spending at a time when the economy supporting me waivers, but it feels good. And though I'll probably wrestle with pangs of guilt each time I use it, deep inside I will know that I believed I was worth it. Perhaps that is what matters most of all.