Should You Beat Up Your Birkin? Why Worn-In Luxury Bags Are Selling Fast

ABOUT 20 YEARS ago, while dining in San Francisco, Lisa Unger Sandman was nearly startled out of her seat. “Oh, my God! That should never be on the floor!” shrieked a woman at a nearby table, pointing to Ms. Unger Sandman’s black Hermès Kelly bag. Chastened, Ms. Unger Sandman, now a retired banker in Raleigh, N.C., snatched up her purse which, in the current market, often costs at least five figures. “It caught me off guard,” she recalled. Today, Ms. Unger Sandman, 60, would ignore such a reprimand and isn’t so worried if her Kelly risks bodily harm. “If a bag has a scratch on it, that means you’ve enjoyed it. I’m happy with the patina.”

Ms. Sandman’s attitude reflects a growing trend. Lately, women are both embracing their handbags’ scratches and stains and seeking out visibly worn-in styles on the secondhand market. In its 2023 luxury consignment report, resale site the RealReal noted higher demand than ever for bags in “fair” (i.e., heavily worn) condition. Similarly, at resale platform Vestiaire Collective, co-founder Sophie Hersan reports that sales of worn-in designer bags have jumped 13% in the last six months.

Why the sudden craving for beat-up bags? One of the biggest draws, posits Katie Devlin of trends and insights company Stylus, is the Y2K revival and the resurgence of “indie sleaze,” a grungy, aughts-era aesthetic. She references the circa-2010 style of Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen. Famously on their arms back then: decimated Hermès Kellys and Balenciaga bags (like the one shown here). “It’s the idea of looking expensive but like you don’t care—of not looking overly curated,” said Ms. Devlin.

In that regard, the trend, which encompasses luxury bags by the likes of Chanel, Gucci and Louis Vuitton, as well as label-free vintage styles, may be a backlash to the picture-perfect world of Instagram and wealthy reality TV stars (see the seemingly untouched designer bags that line the Kardashian clan’s walk-in closets). “There’s a move away from this idealistic, filtered look we’re so used to seeing,” said Dayna Isom Johnson, a trend expert at online marketplace Etsy, where searches for Y2K handbags are up 51% in the last three months compared to the same period last year. “Now people are really embracing the realness and messiness that comes with living everyday life.” Not using something that costs so much, Ms. Isom added, makes people feel “very wasteful.” Elizabeth Layne, chief marketing officer of resale site Rebag, has observed a resistance to feeling “too precious about [luxury] workhorse bags of lower grades. You don’t have to worry if it gets a scuff.”

New York stylist Malina Joseph Gilchrist agrees. “There’s a quiet luxury thing happening…a reaction to a congested market of handbags that are logoed and attention-seeking.” With a worn-in bag, she said, “you look like you’re not trying too hard.”

For Sapna Bhatla, 42, a business strategy consultant in Philadelphia, beat-up bags—whether trendy or not—speak to her identity. After immigrating to the U.S. from India, her style-savvy mother would combine her traditional attire with vintage estate-sale finds. So “pristine feels contrived and inauthentic to me,” Ms. Bhatla said. “If you see my body, I have scars. I have marks. I have a life that’s been lived. And I’m happy to have signs to remind me of it. I like things that show a test of time and sturdiness and resilience.”

She owns an arsenal of worn-in designer purses—some she marred herself, others that she scooped up on eBay. Among her favourites is a decades-old, no-name leather bag she found at a Paris flea market. “I’m not so crazy about brand names when it comes to vintage. If it’s here today, it’s already good quality.”

Those scars should not be haphazardly patched up, said Sofia Bernardin, founder of luxury vintage platform ReSee. “There’s nothing worse than a badly repaired bag. It’s like a woman who’s had too much Botox—she’d have been better off not doing anything.” Still, not all decay is desirable, said Kristin Whalen, 36, a San Francisco senior director of client management and bag obsessive who’s had some of her styles since high school. For her, protruding structural wires and age-induced deformities are nonstarters. Trend analyst Ms. Devlin maintains that, while the optimal degree of destruction is a personal choice, “if it’s not functional and your strap is falling off, it’s time to say goodbye.”

Is inflation driving this so-called “trend”? Recently, the cost of new luxury bags has skyrocketed. According to Jefferies Group, the price of Chanel’s coveted small classic flap bag increased about 60% between 2019 and 2022 in the U.S. Meanwhile, on the RealReal, bags in “fair condition” cost on average 33% less than already-discounted “good condition” options, said Noelle Sciacca, that site’s fashion lead. Lara Osborn, reseller Fashionphile’s vice president of procurement, offers a reality check. “We have to ask ourselves: Is a [worn-in] bag really chic, or is the economy just dictating that we’ll be wearing bags with a lot more love?”

Ms. Joseph Gilchrist insists it’s the former. If your bag’s beat-up, she said, “you just look cooler.”

How to Make A Beautiful Disaster

Is your fancy handbag looking too new? Here, four inadvisable but foolproof ways to pulverise even the sturdiest purse.

1. Toss your pristine purchase in the washing machine—and choose the most punishing spin cycle. For extra distress, add bleach.

2. Give that immaculate purse to your puppy. If he seems uninterested, slather it in peanut butter and present it again.

3. Buy a top-notch bow and arrow and use your bag for target practice. Ignore its faint whimpers each time it’s pierced.

4. Drop it at an osprey breeding site so a hen can use it in her nest. Once the chicks have fledged, retrieve your totally tattered tote.

The Wall Street Journal is not compensated by retailers listed in its articles as outlets for products. Listed retailers frequently are not the sole retail outlets.

For decades, Australia has leaned into its reputation as the lucky country. But luck, as it turns out, is not an economic strategy.

What once looked like resilience now appears increasingly fragile. Beneath the surface of rising property values and steady headline growth, the Australian economy is showing signs of strain that can no longer be ignored.

Recent data paints a sobering picture. Australia has recorded one of the largest declines in real household disposable income per capita among advanced economies.

Wages have failed to keep pace with inflation, meaning many Australians are working harder for less. On a per capita basis, income growth has stalled and, at times, reversed.

And yet, on paper, things still look relatively solid. GDP is growing. Unemployment remains low. But that growth is increasingly being driven by population expansion rather than productivity.

More people are contributing to output, but not necessarily improving living standards.

That distinction matters.

For years, Australia’s economic success rested on a powerful combination: a once-in-a-generation mining boom, a credit-fuelled housing market, strong migration and a property sector that rarely faltered. Between 1991 and 2020, the country avoided recession entirely, building enormous wealth in the process.

But much of that wealth is tied to property. Around two-thirds of household wealth sits in real estate, inflated by leverage and sustained by demand. It has worked, until now.

The problem is the supply side of the economy has not kept up.

Housing supply is falling behind population growth. Rental vacancies are near record lows.

Construction firms are collapsing at an elevated rate. At the same time, massive infrastructure pipelines are competing with residential projects for labour and materials, pushing costs higher and delaying delivery.

The result is a system under pressure from all angles.

Despite near full employment, productivity growth has stagnated for years. In simple terms, Australians are putting in more hours without generating more output per hour. The economy is running faster, butgoing nowhere.

Meanwhile, government spending continues to expand. Public debt is approaching $1 trillion, with spending now accounting for a record share of GDP.

The gap between spending and revenue has been filled by borrowing for decades, adding further pressure to an already stretched system.

This is where the uncomfortable question emerges.

Has Australia become too reliant on a model driven by rising property values, expanding credit and population growth?

As asset prices rise, households feel wealthier and borrow more. Banks lend more. Governments collect more revenue. Migration fuels demand. The cycle reinforces itself.

But when productivity stalls and debt outpaces real income, the system begins to depend on constant expansion just to stay stable.

It is not a collapse scenario. But it is not particularly stable either.

Nowhere is this more evident than in housing.

The National Housing Accord targets 1.2 million new homes over five years, yet current completion rates are well below that pace. With approvals falling and construction costs rising, the gap between supply and demand is widening, not narrowing.

Housing is also one of the largest contributors to inflation, with costs rising sharply across rents, construction and utilities. Yet the private sector, from small investors to major developers, is struggling to make projects stack up in the current environment.

This brings the policy debate into sharper focus.

Tax settings such as negative gearing and capital gains concessions have undoubtedly boosted demand over the past two decades. But they have also supported supply. Removing them may ease prices briefly, but risks deepening the supply shortage over time.

That is the paradox.

Policies designed to make housing more affordable can, in practice, make the shortage worse if they discourage development. The optics may appeal, but the economics are far less forgiving.

It is also worth remembering that most property investors are not institutional players. The majority own just one investment property. They are, in many cases, ordinary Australians using real estate as their primary wealth-building tool.

Undermining that system without replacing it with a viable alternative risks unintended consequences, from reduced supply to higher rents and increased inflation.

So where does that leave Australia?

At a crossroads.

The country can continue to rely on population growth and rising asset prices to drive economic activity. Or it can shift towards a model built on productivity, innovation and sustainable growth.

The latter is harder. It requires structural reform, long-term thinking and political discipline.

But it is also the only path that leads to genuine, lasting prosperity.

The question is no longer whether Australia has been lucky.

It is whether it can evolve before that luck runs out.

Paul Miron is the Co-Founder & Fund Manager of Msquared Capital.

Should You Beat Up Your Birkin? Why Worn-In Luxury Bags Are Selling Fast

Stylish women are pooh-pooing pristine purses. Is it fueled by inflation? Y2K nostalgia? Is it just cool? An investigation into the tattered-bag trend.

How to Make A Beautiful Disaster

As housing drives wealth and policy debate, the real risk is an economy hooked on growth without productivity to sustain it.