My Hidden/Forgotten Vintage Designer Bag Collection

This collection is “hidden” because unless you count the long-lost blog posts of emeroo’s first years, there’s really no evidence they exist on my website or social media platforms. I know, it’s a tragedy. I don’t think I ever truly appreciated the style potential of these bags until recently, when the novelty of the designer logos wore off and I saw them for their true style and structure. I call them “forgotten”, because for quite a few years then were stored away in dust bags, metaphorically collecting dust as I figured out how my style had changed as I transitioned into adult hood. Though I’m confident that I will never truly find the answer I’m looking for. I thought it was about time I re-discovered these hidden/forgotten treasures, and let them inspire me and pull me in the style direction of their choosing within the realm of fashion and my personal style today. Have I truly fallen in love this time around? In some cases, yes. In others, It’s time to breakup and move on. I’m here today to share these reflections with you.

Enjoy!

Acne Studios sweatshirt, Prada bag, vintage necklace (find similar on Shop Classic emeroo)

When this bag was first passed down to me at roughly 11 years old, I was much more entranced by the little gold Prada logo than the bag itself. It’s hard to open, and it’s quilted nylon. Need I say more? As I’ve grown, I’ve hummed and maybe even hawed about selling this piece, but as with the rest of this collection I’ve never pulled that trigger. In this bag’s case, I’m relieved I lived through the years of secret indifference because I’ve come out the other side with a recently developed taste for vintage at the same time as the tiny clutch bag trend. To be honest, I’m not all that attracted to tiny bags, but by admiring from afar I’ve been able to see the way this bag could fit into a trendy, Instagram-able wardrobe. If you’re reading this thinking, “how lame, she keeps clothing for it’s potential to be posted about”, then I say to you, WAKE UP. I’ve abandoned my attempts to test my liking of fashion by ignoring the brand name. I like knowing where things come from and I like designer labels. I’ve made peace with it and I suggest you do too. If I really despised this bag I wouldn’t own it anymore, but the semi-ugly quilted nylon, in my eyes, could be styled to meet that sweet spot of overtly vintage to the point of it not needing to be the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. I liked how I felt when I posed for these self taken quarantine photos, and whether I’d feel differently if there was no Prada logo there, or if the photo wasn’t heading for the internet, is a question for a different discussion.

Miss Sixty thrifted jeans, Lady Dior bag, Frame blouse

I have finally found the perfect piece of clothing to pair with this bag. It’s on display, but not overpowering, just perfectly complemented by this stunning (so stunning I only where it when there’s no chance of me eating) Frame blouse. This Dior bag is timeless, iconic, and surprisingly versatile. Obviously it works well with feminine counterparts such as the blouse in question, but imagining it now with a neutral oversized shirt dress, or even a jeans and tee shirt pairing has me bubbling with Lady Dior excitement. It’s name is fitting. I feel like a “lady” every time I pick it up, despite my aversion to the connotations with that word. But wouldn’t you feel the same? The lady-ness perks me up with endless ideas for contrasting outfits. I’m not normally one to wear designer handbags and big sunglasses with hoodies and Birkenstocks (I know we can all picture the look I’m talking about), but this bag is so dainty and so pink, I can’t help but want to wear it with anything in my wardrobe that is the exact opposite. I’ve let this piece sit on display for too long. The lady must be released and given the chance to meet more of my wardrobe.

Mango suede jacket, Louis Vuitton denim bag, Oak & Fort white pants

I truly don’t think I’m the rightful owner of this bag. It’s always felt disconnected from my wardrobe and a little too season-one Serena Van der Woodsen, making it very difficult for me to style and wear. No matter how vibrant the colour or quality of condition, we’re just not meant to be gal pals. I do enjoy the boldness of the pink against this sleek, modest black and white combo, but something about the shape of the bag just doesn’t slot neatly into my everyday life. I think this is the one bag from this collection I’ll be looking to sell, not because I don’t enjoy it’s company, but because I think it deserves a home that will give it a stage to shine on. I don’t have a vision for this bag, but I’m sure someone else out there does and will wear it more proudly than I ever have.

Thrifted dress, Louis Vuitton denim bag

This bag was first passed down to me the summer I spent in an intensive dance camp with an entire group of people I didn’t know. I was around 10 years old and always, at the time, thought the best way too make friends was to have nicer things than them but act incredibly humble when they inevitably compliment you on those things. I was a child who wanted so badly to have fancy accessories to flaunt. I blame The Devil Wears Prada for this (still my favourite movie to this day). I took this Louis Vuitton denim number into the studio everyday of that dance camp. No one seemed to care. I’m glad I didn’t reel in the attention I so desperately craved, because I soon learned that having fruit rollups to share was the real way to make friends. With only my own eyes on the bag I was able to decide exactly how it made me feel, disregarding the logos that covered it. Of course, this thinking came later in life. That summer I was just deflated no one thought I, a 10 year old child, could afford to buy myself a Louis Vuitton bag.

I’ve fallen in and out of love with this bag, the denim, the hardware, and the inconveniently short strap. Yet somehow I always find a reason to hold onto it tightly. I’ve never considered selling it, it feels too rare. Though I have no idea whether or not it is a rare piece (I assume not), I see it as this semi-practical satchel style that sits just outside the boundaries of trends. I don’t think it’ll ever be explicitly “in style” again, but I don’t think it’s something people will ever question. You simply see it, smile, maybe nod as a sign of acknowledgement that you’d never before considered a denim LV quite like it, and move on with your life. I like the sound of that.

Thanks for reading.

Em