As a copy of the iconic Birkin bag takes TikTok by storm, Fashion Editor Clemmie Fieldsend says it’s time fashion snobs stopped looking down their noses at affordable versions of designer buys.
BARGAIN US supermarket Walmart became a social media sensation when its dupe of Hermès’ Birkin bag, dubbed the Wirkin, went viral last month.
The original version is seen on the arms of every A-lister, from Victoria Beckham and Kate Moss to the Kardashians.
Kate Moss with the £10,000 Hermès Birkin bag – she should have gone to Walmart[/caption]
Victoria Beckham with the Birkin bag[/caption]
But when one lucky customer got her hands on Walmart’s £60 version and shared it on social media, the video clocked up more than nine million views.
The clip from influencer @styledbykristi is just one of hundreds showing off the faux leather arm candy that is a double for the real thing, which costs upwards of £10,000.
Gushing about her emerald green version, she says: “Eighty dollars (£60), you can pretend that you got a Birkin.
“I mean, everyone will probably know it’s not, because who the hell has the money to spend on the real Birkin? Not me.”
Me neither.
And why bother? I would never spend that on a designer bag (although if someone wants to buy one for me, that’s a different story).
Plus, if I splashed that much, I’d feel I was being ripped off.
Take Bottega Veneta. The brand had a facelift in 2018 with a new designer, Daniel Lee, at the helm.
He was responsible for their minimal, logo-less woven bags that took the world by storm after being seen carried by celebrities Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Hailey Bieber and Margot Robbie.
I wasn’t particularly sold by that, but was in the market for an inconspicuous, practical bag.
And their crossbody black leather camera bag caught my eye.
At 17cm x 11cm, it is around the size of my iPhone and I assumed it would set me back a couple of hundred quid, which is costly in itself.
But no, a bag that just about fits my mobile and house keys comes in at £1,750.
And it’s not even lined.
For that money, I’d expect it to be lined in gold leaf.
What a rip-off.
We’ve all been told how the leading brands use the finest leather, thread, dyes and craftsmanship in the world.
But all that is inflated by fashion houses to create the desired illusion of exclusivity.
Just last year, Dior came under investigation for paying £44 to assemble a bag that sells for £2,000.
So while you might think you are paying for top-level craftsmanship carried out by a true artisan, chances are the poorly paid workers are not seeing any of your hard-earned cash.
The luxury goods industry has gone from bonkers to bank-breaking in recent years, despite crippling economic struggles around the globe.
In fact, between 2020 and 2023, like-for-like prices on designer products (such as a classic Chanel flap bag) shot up by 66 per cent.
So how did this happen when the supermarkets were putting padlocks on butter?
The likely reason is that high-end brands have spent years building up their status and desirability.
Celebrities plastered across buses, half-naked, make us take notice of the designer togs they are peddling.
Catwalk models bestride runways carrying a buttery-soft leather clutch we can only dream of owning.
A-listers are papped grabbing a post-gym coffee with the latest must-have bag over their shoulder.
And shops on the world’s most expensive streets encourage us to press our faces up against their windows, with sometimes just one lonely handbag perched on a plinth.
Just to show us that it’s unique and out of our reach.
This greedy retail theatre gets us sucked into thinking we need to be a member of the exclusive “it” club.
Let’s take the Birkin, a bag so iconic it has earned a “the” that comes before it.
It was named after actress, model and all-round cool girl Jane Birkin, who in 1983 happened to sit next to the chief executive of Hermès on a plane and mentioned she needed a leather bag to put all her things in.
So, he made one for her.
That special treatment carried on, so much so that customers have to make an appointment in-store to discuss how they want their Birkin to look — then it is made for them.
The bags you see in their shops are kept for a limited number of elite customers who have bought several items before.
Now so exclusive, the Birkin ranges from £10,000 to £500,000 and comes in leather, crocodile and even ostrich.
In 2022, auctioneers Sotheby’s sold a white Himalaya crocodile bag with 18-carat white gold and diamond hardware for over £360,000.
Limited editions and waitlists are created to give the impression of scarcity and to drive up demand and price.
Even if I won the Lottery, I wouldn’t waste my winnings on one.
And why buy a real one when you can get a version that looks identical for so much less.
Dupes — not to be mistaken for knock-offs that copy everything from the logo to the inside label — are a more practical and all-round sensible way to go.
I bought my first when I was 18.
I was on holiday in Turkey and spotted a black watch with white numbers inspired by Chanel’s £5,000 version — but at a price a teenager could afford.
It lasted me four years and only broke after I wore it in the shower.
These days, British high streets have plenty of dupes.
In the past three years, Marks & Spencer, H&M and Mango have all seen huge spikes in sales thanks to their canny copies.
They use the same viral, must-have marketing tactics that pricey brands have.
Fashion folk will tell you that you are making an investment and buying a “heritage piece” and will turn their noses up at a high street equivalent.
But we’ve been wearing looks inspired by catwalk designers for decades.
If we can buy a bag that’s the spitting image of the pricier version, but doesn’t mean you have to remortgage, why not?
To me, it makes more sense to carry a bag that costs under £100 than panic about getting a scuff on a £10,000 model.
At that price, I’d rather have a new kitchen.