Turn Every Page: Hermès and exclusivity
What makes something a "luxury" and should it be available to the masses?
In March 2024, Hermès—the iconic French fashion brand—was hit with a class-action lawsuit in California. The allegation? That Hermès would only sell its iconic Birkin and Kelly Bags to customers who demonstrated that they had a “sufficient purchase history” with the company. That is, these consumers felt like they were pressured or required to purchase other Hermès items, like its famous scarves, to “qualify” to buy a bag. In their minds, it’s an antitrust violation.
Birkin Bags are famously hard to come by. They are not stocked in Hermès’ retail stores. Purchasing one—in addition to costing you at least $30,000—is apparently quite a rare thing. The same is true of a Kelly Bag, renamed after Grace Kelly in the late 1970s. (Kelly had famously used the bag to conceal her belly when she was pregnant shortly after becoming the Princess of Monaco in 1956.) A Kelly Bag starts at around $10,000.
The history of the bags, and of Hermès more generally, is fascinating. If you are interested in loooong-form podcasts (over four hours for this episode), you should really listen to the Acquired Podcast’s discussion of Hermès. It delves into the early days of Hermès as saddle makers and creators of fine leather goods and explains how Hermès became the definition of luxury fashion and fine craftsmanship today.
Hermès is an exclusive brand, no one argues with that. If Hermès products were sold on Amazon, or if Hermès had as many stores as the Gap, it would lose its cachet. There are plenty of other luxury brands that produce goods that people want, and they do so using machinery, outsourced labor, and production on a mass scale—all of which Hermès abhors—to reach a greater number of people at a (relatively) lower price. Think Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Gucci.
Of course, there’s the opposite end of the fashion spectrum, so-called “fast fashion.” As described by Elizabeth Cline in her book, Overdressed: the Shockingly High Cost of Cheap Fashion, these are brands like Old Navy, H&M, Forever 21, and similar stores. These stores created and expanded a market for cheaper clothing alternatives. It’s a trend that began in the 1950s with the expansion of department stores when people moved their homes and shopping from downtown to the suburbs. Eventually, people would focus their shopping in the ultimate sign of suburbia, the shopping mall.
Malls grew in size and number exponentially in the 1970s and consumers became accustomed to significant sales—40-60% off retail prices—as the norm. And stores responded by creating an environment that kept people coming back. If you cannot make money on the price of an individual item, the theory goes, you can make money on a lower margin with an increased volume in sales.
So “[d]epartment stores rapidly consolidated to compete for market share and cheapening consumers—the average shopper was both getting poorer and expecting better and better deals.” Cline, at 27-28. This new kind of consumer demand led to a change in what the stores were offering: “Their new modus operandi was to be cheaper and more predictable. Better-made clothing was put out to pasture, and higher-end lines were cut in many stores.” Cline, at 28.
As fast-fashion grew more prevalent, “luxury” became less associated with the high quality of a piece and more associated with the message the shirt, blazer, or bag conveyed. No one buys a Birkin bag simply because they appreciate high-quality leather goods. Carrying a Birkin around conveys a certain status, lifestyle, and economic standing. (As Cline recounted about one of her visits to a high-end store, “This Bergdorf saleswoman told me directly that quality was not at all what was motivating her consumer. It was prestige. They were after the designer’s name.” Cline, at 76.)
Hermès seems to be a bit different. It is exclusive, sure, but it also has a timeless quality to its products. Unfortunately, the cost associated with them is so high that most people will never be able to experience having one. In an age focused on fast-fashion and replaceable garments, quality and longevity cost money. “Clothes have almost always been expensive, hard to come by, and highly valued; they have been used as alternate currency in many societies. Well into the twentieth century, clothes were pricey and precious enough that they were mended and cared for and reimagined countless times, and most people had a few outfits that they wore until they wore them out.” Cline, at 3-4.
It is certainly more sustainable, from an environmental perspective, to buy quality goods that last over time. Maybe you don’t buy a Hermès bag, but you also don’t get a bag that has shoddy workmanship or that is made of a material that will quickly fall apart. When we buy lower-quality products, we have to buy more of them over time because they wear out more frequently.
Timeless quality can, and often does, go with timeless style. I’ve never owned a bespoke suit, and probably never will. But I’m intrigued by the great English tailoring houses on Savile Row, like Henry Poole. Since 1806, Henry Poole has been creating custom suits for men that not only fit them perfectly, but create a timeless style for them. A bespoke suit—because of the quality of the fabric and craftsmanship—can last 20 or more years with proper care. I’ve had cheaper suits (think <$500) wear out in a couple years after regular wear. Some think the high cost of a true bespoke suit (a Henry Poole suit will cost you at least $6,500) is a non-starter. That’s true for me—I love wearing suits, I wear them more often than others, and I would love to have only bespoke suits in my wardrobe because I recognize the difference in quality between my suits and a bespoke version. But an off-the-rack suit works just fine for me.
And I recognize the trade offs between cost and quality. That’s a lesson a lot of people miss. Consumers—of clothes, legal services, construction, and many other areas—want a lot of something for very little. Their expectations fail to take into account the actual cost of the services or products. In the legal world, a lot of us do everything bespoke. The motion we file for your case is created from whole cloth and designed specifically for the facts and law of your case. A good lawyer does not use AI to write a brief. And unless you are in one of the 1-800-personal-injury firms, you are not creating all of your documents from a fillable template.
Whatever the industry, bespoke products are simply not something that can be mass produced. And it is a craft that is passed down from one generation of professionals to the next. As Hermès puts it in the context of fashion, “We stitch the way people did 400 years ago.” Henry Poole makes suits using the same methods it used more than 200 years ago. These quality products are expensive for a reason.
Quality is obvious in a “know-it-when-I-see-it” kind of way. As Cline notes after trying on a Helmut Lang blazer, “The difference in quality between this jacket and anything I owned was visceral and obvious. This jacket felt amazing. It looked amazing on.” Cline, at 75. Yet even Cline noted how she still tends to buy items that are less than $30 at stores like H&M. Others she spoke with have no problem buying a shirt knowing that they will throw it away after wearing it three times. Even though we know the difference, we settle for a cheap substitute.
The lure of cheap fashion is a type of consumerism that pervades other areas of life as well. People with legal needs go to LegalZoom rather than an actual attorney. Instead of paying more for authentic cuisine, we settle for Americanized versions of dishes. Rather than use long-lasting and natural building materials, we cut corners and use materials that will last as long as we think we will own the property. Paying more for certain things, I think, is not always a luxury. Sometimes we want things that last longer, that have a timeless quality to them, and don’t care whether there is a designer name stamped on them.
Focusing on quality in every part of our lives—in what we consume and in what we produce—is a mental shift. But quality products, quality time, quality experiences—that is the stuff we will really cherish throughout life.
Remember to turn every page. Enjoy your weekend. Please let me know whether you need anything.
Best,
Aaron