Hello Kitty for kids only, please

As global commerce becomes more competitive, and brand loyalty demands an astute consumer who won't flinch at the latest products but buy at their every whim, it is without fanfare that I bring to you a collaboration between Sanrio and Rebecca Minkoff for a line of luxury leather bags and accessories.

Let me say this. I love Hello Kitty. Actually, my first love was for My Melody, but I slowly gravitated to the flagship star in my teens, when Angel Hello Kitty was created. I didn't love HK's original red overalls, but put her in a lacey sky blue gown, and I was sold. (An ex's friend's gf happily referred to her as Dead Kitty, but I'm sure that the Sanrio execs didn't care what you called her, as long as the $$ came rolling in.) I bought tons of those bean bag kitties, dressed in all kinds of different outfits. It got so out of hand, especially when friends started buying them for me for my birthday and holidays, that I told them the madness must stop. Then, you know, I grew up. I stopped buying Hello Kitty. The dream fantasy was no longer relevant, and the cast of characters who sat so vigilantly in my room were packed and put away. But Sanrio, the aggressive force they are, saw all these HK enthusiasts fade away from their realm. So in comes products aimed towards adults. And this is where I REALLY think they have their strategy all wrong.

I was slightly apalled when Kimora Lee Simmons came out with a line of Helly Kitty diamond jewelry. In my mind, it was an unnecessary brand extension that reaches out to the super rich, which seemed to defy what HK was all about: a cute, universal brand designed for the masses, but due to their unique merchandising plan to release new designs every month, the owner was always unique because there were so many choices. A grown woman wearing a diamond Hello Kitty pendant teetered on the tacky, as if to say that this child-woman isn't able to let go of her youth even as her income level has risen. What message is being sent? Confidence, chastity, or victim of the brand?

At least, with the KLS jewelry, they were passably pretty. I am non-plussed by the total lack of design and effort that went into these bags. They are functional, surely, but NOT stylish! Where is the Hello Kitty anthem in these bags? If I wanted a black leather bag, there are SO many QUALITY bags to choose from in the world. Why would I fork out $650 bucks for a boring black bag that is lined with the most uninspired Hello Kitty pattern ever? What genius sat around and decided that this is quality branding? Very, very disappointing.

Anyhow, maybe if you REALLY love HK, you will buy this, but you can't even pay me to carry this bag. They are just hideously, hideously boring. You're better off carrying a Rebecca Minkoff original.

Hello Kitty Rebecca Minkoff for Momoberry Sanrio Collection - $150-$650

If you could only have one bag...

...what would it be? How hard would it be to let go of your entire collection and only hold onto one sad, lonely, but gorgeous piece?

I've been thinking about that every since I finished reading "Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster." I know I've referenced this book many times (the author should really thank me!), but if I had to summarize the entire book in one sentence, it would be "The conglomerates *cough* Louis Vuitton *cough* are evil, but buy Hermès and Chanel, they are the real prince and princess of Luxury Land." Ironically, I own neither, so now I'm re-thinking my whole purchasing process. Have I been doing this all wrong? Why not use that consumer power for something truly refined instead of mass-produced?

My answer to my own question would be the Hermès Birkin. Hands down, this is one of the most iconic bags in the world, but it is also classic, made truly by hand, with all natural and wonderful materials, and unique in itself. Dana Thomas' in-depth description of the meticulous process needed to make this bag made my once-elevated LVs fall as quickly as an elevator whose cable has snapped and is hurtling, crashing, into downwards descension. Who has deceived me more than I have deceived myself?



Don't get me wrong. I don't love my LVs any less. But now I must tell myself, should I stop buying completely? Other than trying to satisfy the hoarder in me, why buy so many bags? When did the madness begin, and what makes sense now? Is it the hunt for the bag that exhilirates me? If so, then it was wrong for me to buy, because if I enjoy the hunt more than I can use the bags, there is obviously some deep chasm I need to fill, and bags are not the answer.

If you think I'm going to sell all my bags now, hah!, you are dead wrong. Each bag bears a memory now. It's not that easy to let go, even though I've thought about relinquishing some to the world of eBay. The pink Christian Dior pochette that was so hard to find, but which after I purchased, I never used. Its white leather flowers are still pristine, in all its dainty, milky glory. There is the red patent leather Marc Jacobs hobo that I thought would look so great slung on my back. It wasn't until it arrived in the mail that I found out how ridiculously big it looked on me. Still, the patent leather is one of the most gorgeous materials I've seen on any bag....it was just too big on my frame, so it now sits somewhere, waiting to be cherished. I have even thought of letting go of some of my prized LVs. The cute multicolor pochette that they don't even make anymore. I also have the clutch, which is more in line with my wardrobe, so why keep both? And so the gears in my head turn, wanting to absolve them, but wanting to hold on as well.

I am now on the biggest hunt; for a meticulous, gently used but loved Birkin that won't set me back TOO much. This can be a hunt for years, so maybe I won't buy anymore, because the hunt will keep me at bay. Maybe it's because I'm approaching 30 next year; a more adult, classic bag is calling out to me to replace the girly fantasies that my other bags provided in the past 5 years. Vanity Fair had a lovely article written on the Hermès family, which you should definitely read. They perceive themselves to be truly about the craftsmanship, rathering than the marketing (if you want to believe them), but I think we all can agree that as of the present, they have not sold out just yet. If they can hang onto themselves and not allow the giants of the business world swallow up their "family business," then shouldn't we hold onto our own souls as well? Do you buy because you love it, or just to have it?

Murderous Shoes

By logic, men should never design women's shoes. Because they will never be the consumer, they allow themselves to create under the pretense of high design, pushing the envelope, if you will, but the results are pure sadism and fetishism. There is zero sympathy for the woman in question.

In the New York Times, they highlighted the impossible shoes that marched across the runways recently. One look at these shoes, and you KNEW that a man designed these. Even for a runway show, yes, fantasy is the norm, but I also think there's some sort of condescension coming from the designer, where they objectify the woman and subject her to painful shoes, which is highly unnecessary.

The one shoe that maddened me the most was one designed by an Antonio Berardi, an Italian-English designer. It is a platform shoe with a non-existent heel! “When you walk, it is almost on tiptoe. You look really dainty.” What is he, smoking crack? Make a REAL shoe, and I'll applaud your efforts. Maybe he secretly wanted to see one of his models wipe out. :P

Some other shoes that made me cringe: Yves Saint Laurent shoes where the bottom of the feet are balanced on thin soles that barely support, and these horrid Alexander McQueen geisha-on-steroids clogs.


After I finished reading Lisa See's Snow Flower and the Fan, I am grateful that we live in a world where feet are not subjected to torture. Set in 19th-century China, one of the more memorable scenes in the book are of the process of foot-binding. I have seen photos online of the foot after it's gone through the process, where the end-result is a "golden lily" foot that is about 3 inches long, the toes hideously curled under the foot. Imagine walking on a stump for most of your life! I don't think I could've beared it.

But how far have we gone when men continue to feed their sexual fantasies by subjecting woman to shoes that are just ludicrous? I know that shoe fetishes exist. An exbf had one, and although he taught me to appreciate the beauty of a fine-quality shoe, there were also those moments where if the shoe doesn't fit, if it hurts, then you stop wearing it. Sorry, my feet are mine, and I won't force them in.

Painful shoes are now a commonality for a lot of women. I'm not even talking about stilettos or platform clunkers. I've had ballet flats pinch me in a spot so hard that at the end of the day, my little toes were numb. I used to be very bold with my choice of footwear, wearing 4-inch heels, or shoes that had funny-looking wedges, even slingbacks that I teetered-tottered on 'cause they looked zexy. But as I've gotten older, sensibility took over. Or maybe my pain tolerance gave way. Whatever it is, I still love a nice shoe, but please, let it not hurt. And will someone please tell that to the guys?

Vuitton in Technicolor

It's no secret that bags are the big revenue generator for Louis Vuitton. While the classics bring patrons back, it's the shock value that bring LV free publicity. So for Spring 2008, in what appears to be free reign over the collection despite the bottom-line, Marc Jacobs went ballistic, and in collaboration with artist Richard Prince, devised the most insane line that I've ever seen Jacobs do. They have really pushed the boundaries between commercialism and art.

To start off, the palette was inspired by SpongeBob SquarePants. What you end up with is a very nonsensical but uniform array of neon and acid colors, where some bags appear to have been spray-painted on, others imprinted with text, and in some cases, there is a Warholian effect with the color inverse of the famous LV logos and flowers.

The show itself was a very straight-forward inspiration from Prince's work. Models dressed as nurses were inspired by Prince's Nurse paintings.

The colors of SpongeBob permeate the line of clothing, starting with the bright yellows, melding in with the soft dreamy blues, creams, exploding with the red, and finally, ending with the darks, as if entering the bottom of the ocean. The collection ends with your eyes descending on the myriad of purses that look like they fell out of a rainbow on crack.

Even the self-references on some of the bags made me laugh. It's like the painting on the wall in a museum, and you need to look at the plaque to read the name. So when I look at this bag, not only is it a bag, or that it's an LV bag. You can now call it by it's catalog name. It's really going beyond branding, and re-assessing the identity of the piece. (Think I'm bull-shitting? This is what the art world's all about, my friend.)

The big question is, would you buy it? I think there's something so fundamentally free to be playful and just let all proper wisdom go out the window, and create something really edgy and zany and not be apologetic about it. But beyond "art," can the same view be that this is less about the artist, and more about capitalism at its worst? Now that Jacobs has taken the classic house of Vuitton and turned it upside down, but will charge you double or triple the norm, how do you take this piece of art and not look at it with some sort of distaste, as if the joke isn't so much the humor of taking something so dowdy as the classic monogram and having fun with it, but that the joke's on you 'cause you bought into the hype and mass hysteria for a bag that aesthetically, is, quite honestly, pretty ugly?

How different is the bag below from the Coach Scribble line? Who copied who, since Coach was copying inspired by Murakami's Multicolor Monogram? Why not buy the Coach instead, if "art" is really what you're after? (Yes, I really don't like Coach, which is why I bemoan the fact that you would even compare the two. Coach cannot replace LV!) When do you hit yourself on the back of your head and say that this is all a scam? Do these artists really believe in their work, or do they think that the can keep pushing, and no one can ever push back?

I have no idea which of the actual pieces will be available for sale, but I would love to see it in person. I have read comparisons of this collection to the Murakami collections in the past, but I thoroughly disagree. Murakami's pieces were of a very decisive, simple, direct, feminine, and clean aesthetic. Prince went the opposite. He didn't reign anything in at all, it's in all directions, some pieces still running with the ombre fades that was influenced by Vermeer, others mocked the proper printing of the logo on canvas, and yet others had really bad cartoon art on it. Seriously? Seriously.

If you catch me carrying one, would you call me an art collector or a sucker?

Photo Source 1

Photo Source 2
Photo Source 3

Woman of Leisure

So I finished "Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster" yesterday. It was a good read, although vaguely similar to how "Fast Food Nation" was written. I guess I must enjoy these investigative-reporting types of books. The behind-the-scenes view is really quite interesting, and I felt I was being educated while embroiled in some secret gossip about the industries.

Having said that, I don't know if I want to go into detail about summarizing any key points, or even trying to review the book. I read what others said about it online after I finished the book, and while most reviewers seemed to think that the author emitted condescension when discussing that mass-democratization of luxury was bad for the business, my interpretation of this observation is that in trying to churn out luxury for the masses, you lose the real meaning of luxury, which is an item of utmost quality, appeal, and value. I also think, based on personal experiences, I am not rich, but I know I have expensive taste. I am not the gilded woman who could walk into a room and stop traffic. But as a patron, I appreciate the finer things in life, even if normally I wouldn't be able to afford it. So where would I fall in this realm? I'm not one to tack on everything and logo myself to prove that I have "taste." But even if my bank account can't sustain my tastes, I would still try to save up for that special something. How would Dana Thomas, the author, choose to categorize me?

This leads me to a certain fascination that I have had on-and-off ever since I read a 2-page article in Vogue years ago, maybe even while I was in high school. This is the concept of a "tai tai," which is a Cantonese term for "wife." In Hong Kong, tai tais are an affluent and impeccable bunch. They are a prestigious group of married women who do nothing but eat, shop, gossip, play mah-jong and look flawless for their husbands. They are like trophy wives, except more immaculate by Western standards. There is a certain aura that surrounds what is expected of a tai tai. One does not just marry into wealth. They must embody taste, knowledge of the world, and are fluid in conversations ranging from finance to travel, culinary delights to fashion. A tai tai looks radiant all the time, and are often chosen for their beauty. They are not a subject of scandal. In their spare time, they attend charity events and gala balls. It is a world that is not as simple as living off of her husband, getting massages and facials every day, and endless shopping, wearing the latest in luxury apparel. A tai tai is an extension, no, a beacon that tells the world what good taste her wealthy husband has. She represents her husband. A tai tai is like a full time job, with no end in sight. Any misstep, and she can fall from grace.

Not much is written about tai tais in the Western subtext. The paparazzi in Hong Kong have an endless fascination with them, and are giddy with delight any time scandal does happen, although the rest of the island would look down disapprovingly, as if to say that this certain tai tai has ruined them all. The traditionalists in Hong Kong astound me, for this is a city that claims to be so cosmopolitan, so liberal, so modern. But as the social rules of a tai tai dictates, wealth does not free one from the traditional restraints. If one is to survive in the norms of the Hong Kong social scene, they play by everyone's rules. That includes flaunting as much as one can of one's wealth, but done in an exquisite manner, not through crass or obvious nonchalance about grace and style. Tai tais who exist in this exclusive circle could have been born from wealth or come from humble means. If they were born into wealth, then becoming a tai tai was only natural. Born from some more ignoble situations, then youth and beauty were keys to find that magnate who could whisk them away into the stratosphere of wealth. Gold diggers? Doesn't matter. In the rarified moments that they are chosen as brides, they can be tamed and molded, much like a My Fair Lady, to become a tai tai. Once this woman has made it into the inner circle, it is her duty to maintain her status.

The book only hit on the concept of a tai tai briefly, but it made me question what luxury means in the modern day, if it doesn't apply to consumerism. A tai tai, who may not be blue blood, can wield more financial power than some of the wealthiest men in the world. Their job, after all, is to shop! If she can be trained to have an aesthetic appreciation of things, and can cull together an air of refinement that keeps people in their place, is she the equivalent of mass-democratization of luxury? Where is the line drawn, to say that one "deserves" a luxury good, while someone else, no matter how hard they try, even if they had the money, can not befit the definition of a luxury goods consumer?

In case you were wondering, the photos for this entry is of Cherie Chung, one of my idols when I was growing up. A radiant Hong Kong actress blessed with beauty and talent, and best known for her films with the young Chow Yun-Fat, she married (for love!) into wealth and retired from the entertainment industry at the height of her career in the early '90s. Recently widowed, she has spent at least the last five years promoting environmental organizations and activities, and lately has been the spokewoman for Piaget, as she is still very popular in the HK media. A woman of all dimensions, she is in my mind, the ultimate, classy tai tai, with no flaws, respect from high society, and an enduring legacy. Can you believe that in these photos, she's in her late 40's? This is luxury that money cannot buy.

Fashion Fatigue

Is it possible to be just sick and tired of shopping? I started off this blog by mentioning how in the past five years I've allowed myself to indulge in whatever designer bags catch my fancy. I believe some of my friends even thought me strange, going through a retail addiction phase so manic they could not relate anymore. As you grow up internally as a person, and allow yourself more luxurious options in life, there is also the general rift that can come with hanging out with your friends who may think you un-wise and wasteful, shallow or pretentious, especially if there is a significant income level between you and the others. This is why friendships are best when money is not of particular focus.

But I digress. For years, the Louis Vuitton obsession took over me like a druggie. I bought into the Marc Jacobs fantasy like a born-again Christian, frenetic in my chase of the next limited collaboration. More often than not, I got really good at keeping track of the newest items that didn't even show up in their customer service's computer database yet. So I would call back, or ask to be added to some waiting list. By the way, one thing I've learned is that the waiting list is open to everyone. The idea of VIP depends on who you ask. A local SA may not know me from Joe Schmoe, so maybe I won't get my ass kissed as much, but I have in my collection enough of a variety of limited pieces that if I had any sense, I'd sell it all so I can easily buy a new car and maybe put down enough to almost pay it in full. A car, or a closet full of unused purses? Which one would you choose?

So even though I started this blog only about a week ago, I have to admit that I'm now experiencing shopper's fatigue. I buy fashion magazines by the truckload, and am almost a bit tired of the mimicry that shows up in all of these glossy pages. Everyone gushes over the same designers. If I could paint a clear metaphor of what a fashion magazine is, it's that it's the equivalent of the high school newspaper, and all the popular people made it into the pages.

And what is luxury, anyways? Is it the materials, the design, the length of time it takes to create the creation? I grew up making a lot of jewelry. I have had compliments paid to a bracelet I made while shopping at Saks. If I had been smarter, I would have sold them on it and tried to get a buyer to look at it, but I wasn't business-savvy enough. When LV tried to sell their canvas bag with their logo in beads, I loved it, but could not substantiate the price in my mind, no matter how high the LV myth was elevated in my mind. Something told me that if I spent enough weekends sitting with glass beads purchased from A.C. Moore, I could do the same with my own initials, and aren't custom items more of a luxury than a mass-produced item? How blurred are the lines between luxury and DIY?


The last two handbags I purchased were both limited pieces. While on a business trip in Las Vegas, I wandered into the LV store there, and besotted, I purchased the LV Monogram Dentelle Batignolles Horizontal, with the lace in silver. I lugged it through the airport in its box, not ready to use it just yet, and now that I'm back home, I've used it just ONCE. It's not because I don't think it's fabulous, and I definitely would not sell it, but I can't think of when to use it. I work in the boonies, so no one at work even cares or appreciates designer pieces. So it sits in my living room, untouched. I really should put it back in its drawstring bag, but if I don't keep it out, I might forget that I even own it.


The other bag I bought was also one of those "If I get it, great, if not, that's ok, too" purchases. I first saw this Montaigne purse in Bottega Veneta's spring 07 campaign. Loved it!!! I pre-ordered it on the website, and was told it may or may not be available, because it was SOooo limited. So months later, after I had even forgotten that I had pre-ordered it, I get an email from the SA that it was available. Did I still want it? Of course I said yes. It arrived in all it's girly pink glory, the leather so soft, the bag as romantic as the advertising promised. I pictured myself using it on bright sunny days, when I went shopping or brunch with the girls. But I never did. I have NEVER used it. The rainy spring and unpredictable weather of summer prevented me from wanting to leave the house with it. I didn't want it to be ruined; it was so pretty! So now it sits unused, in my bedroom waiting for that perfect moment when I can expose it to the (kind) elements. Will it ever be utilized?


Since my BV purchase, I have not bought another designer purse. I've been buying cotton shoppers, which are lighter to carry, and I've been drifting back to my classic LVs, and not the ones covered with cartoons or other limited accoutrements, which was such a draw for me in the first place. The last few things I've purchased were 2 Proenza Schouler for Target suede clutches, a Devi Kroell for Target faux-python clutch, and 2 faux-leather Simply Vera (Vera Wang for Kohl's) bags. Yes, I'm going cheapskate here, but still getting the designer touch.


I would really like a black BV; I find that might be more useful for everyday use, where if the leather is scuffed, at least I can't see it, and there's something very confident in myself to not carry a bag that has logos and instant recognizability all over it. But I don't feel compelled to go out and buy one right now. I got the Gucci catalog in the mail the other day. I only own one Gucci purse, and I got a lot of use out of that bag (and a lot of compliments), but the new Gucci designs seemed redundant, desperate, and not very mind-blowing. Plexiglass on leather? I obviously DON'T need another purse when I have new ones that I have never used. And plenty uses out of the cheaper bags.

So you may see more posts from me pining for the latest fashions. But will I be buying anything? Maybe I just need a break from all of this retail therapy.

Louis Vuitton That's Love Canvas Tote - $1,720

Louis Vuitton Monogram Dentelle Speedy - $1,420 (a cheaper alternative to the $1,720 for the Batignolles Horizontal)

Bottega Veneta Montaigne - $1,980 (brown for fall, but inquire for other colors)

Target (for the latest GO deals)

Kohl's (for the latest Simply Vera deals)