Wendy Wasserstein, the late (and greatly missed) Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright (“The Heidi Chronicles”) and author, was a remarkably honest writer about her own insecurities and fears. When I had the opportunity to hear her speak at a gala luncheon for Dress for Success, I pulled out the checkbook because Dress for Success is such a wonderful organization and Wendy Wasserstein would be the cherry on a seven layer cake.
Wendy began her speech by confessing she had always admired Louis Vuitton handbags and had written an article detailing her mixed feelings about owning one. The price was one issue (they are very expensive), the bag’s image was another (status object) and finally, she didn’t feel she was elegant enough to carry one. Well, the company that produces Louis Vuitton accessories read the article and asked Wendy if she would like to borrow one of their most expensive handbags and wear it for a week. The goal would be to see if the handbag changed the way she felt about herself.
The handbag was delivered to her apartment and the experiment began. Wendy took the bag ‘out for a walk’ and noticed she felt thinner. The next day she took the bag to the Upper East Side and felt more confident and admired. Each day the bag created deeper feelings of self-love and acceptance. It was surreal — she spoke about the handbag as if it had magical powers.
That is precisely what clothing and accessories can do for all of us. We don’t need a handbag to feel thinner and taller — we need to wear the pieces that give us the extra oomph to shut out the negative voices that can derail our trajectory. When we look amazing, we do bold things. We reach out to shake a hand, introduce ourselves to a stranger or ask someone who is sitting alone to join us at our table. Don’t you love yourself when you’re that generous and bursting with charm? On those days when I’m me at my best I can always remember what I was wearing as the clothing or the accessories (or maybe the socks) gave me the power to grab life with two hands, not just one.
Wendy Wasserstein’s borrowed handbag reaffirms the transformative power of style. The LV handbag had given Wasserstein the self-acceptance she obviously craved. To this day I find it mind-boggling: A renowned playwright needed a vinyl bag to make her feel confident.
Go. Shop your closet. Wear something with the talismanic power to make you do something really crazy.
Like love yourself.
shopping ahoy!
admiring
Sreemanti
Dear Job/Jobless: Shopping the closet, ahoy! Find that talisman…and then rock it. Always wonderful to hear from you, my dear friend.
Love this.
Dear Melodious: A compliment from you means a great deal. Youse it! Always with admiration, E.
A wonderful post. Thank you!
Dear Anne the Spy Girl: Your compliments are fabulous! It’s good to know when I hit the bullseye with my readers. Most appreciatively, E.
I just had to tweet & FB this amazing blog post, Ellen. Amen and amen!
Dear Janise: Thank you and thank you and thank you for sharing my blog post with your posse. You are indeed quite fabulous! Thanks for your support and encouragement. Regards, E.
Handbags and Stilettos.
Two things that were invented to slow women down.
I don’t want a 400 lb. purse. Junk expands to fill the space available. I don’t want to schlepp something that is bigger than my torso. I don’t care if LV is a status symbol. I look at the bag from a pure style standpoint, and personally? I think the logo and the design is ugly.
Me?
I go hands free. I carry the minimal amount that I need, and I never think about my purse. It has no status. It cost $150. It took me year to get my head around it. Now I have two of them. One in black and one in brown.
Stilettos.
Good for when you’re lying down. Or sitting.
Not good for powerfully strutting down the street. Or making a point. (Oh but wait, Penelope Cruz in Vicki Christina Barcelona would not have had her insanity tolerated to the point of sexy, if she wasn’t sexy and gorgeously pulled together whenever she lost her sh*t.)
No I down own a pair of Birkenstocks, and probably never will. We all need to know where the line is.
I just prefer things that allow me to move, and express myself, and who I am is more than the purse I am carrying, or the Choo I am wearing.
I was out with friends on Saturday night. Beautiful 6′ tall (much taller than her husband *wink*) woman put on her platforms (now over 6′ tall) when we went out. The shoes looked like a torture device. Something you might wear to the screening of Fifty Shades of Grey. Buckles and straps and metal pointy things and now she can’t walk. But as long as she doesn’t move, she looks amazing. If that’s your thing. Apparently it was my husband’s. I’m just happy he appreciated something that was designed after 1985. Her included.
Later I realized that they were Gucci’s.
I don’t care. They were ugly. And if I was wearing them I wouldn’t be saying anything, because I can’t think, and balance, and be fabulous and witty and provocative while I’m constantly worried about breaking my ankle, or worse, my face hitting the pavement from a height of 6 feet.
But that’s just me.
~ heidi
Dear Heidi: For someone who eschews “labels,” you sure seem to know a lot about them. (Wink) Your pal, E.
I don’t live in a fox hole! I have to see them to know them to consider whether I want to get swept up in the hype. Meanwhile have you seen that new clematis that is making the rounds? If you have one of those growing up your trellis yooz the bomb. LOL.
~ heidi
My clematis is da bomb, Miz Heidi. Don’t be such a cynic: You can love clematis and a handbag simultaneously and in duplicate.
Um, er, well, I think Wendy’s story is more emblematic of the belief systems she was personally struggling with — and less to do with the handbag itself. We are all subject to marketing — especially the subliminal type — the LV handbag clearly had an association for Wendy which was psychological and set off her own inaccurate sense of lack of worth. When she ‘embraced’ the handbag, as it were, things changed. She tried something new — something that was anathema to her sense of herself and she turned a profit — a more psychological one really, as I see it. It’s not the bag that makes the woman, it’s the woman that makes the bag, don’t you think? I am a collector of vintage bags myself. I briefly used an LV wallet and felt quite nostalgic really — it was a very very popular bag during the 80′s — I was in high school & college then — so the image had a very positive psychological association for me — same with Gucci really. We are all so different from one perspective. My bags have changed over the years in fact. There was the Coach phase, then Furla, then vintage, then knapsacks, now I just rotate. Much love. Sassy-bagger.
Dear Sassy: I wonder if Wasserstein shared the LV story with her shrink? He or She would have had a field day. The shocking part of Wendy’s speech was her raw honesty…this LV bag served as a temporary bridge to self-acceptance. After reading Wacky Chicks by Simon Doonan, I did as he suggested and threw all my fancy bags into the East River. Now I use a paper shopping bag from Uniqlo. (Green Police: I wrote “paper” shopping bag. Okay?) Thanks, Sassy! Glad you’re rotating those bags and “taking them for a walk” now and then. (wink)
Well yes, a good number of those bags did walk at one time…yikes…especially the baby alligator! Ugh, so sorry, but I found it at a street fair in its original box, it was gorgeous and fascinating and a fab conversation starter. I ultimately passed it onto a lovely young lady who admired it. I was just reminded of a handbag idea I had years back…oh the creativity just flows when I blog with fabulosos. *giggles*
Dear Jennifer: And I am still looking for a bag my Mother found at a junk store that was in the shape of a beach ball. Abfab. I guess we can trace our self-images by the bags we once carried. These days I carry a plain canvas tote, no logo. It serves me well and it telegraphs how serenely indifferent I am to trends. Er…some trends. Great to hear from you as always! Affectionately, E.
Oh Ellen, how I adored your latest post, you have put a great big smile on my face, I intend to forward your wisdom to all my friends!!! Did I ever tell you what an amazing and wonderful woman you are??!!
Dear Gail: I am truly grateful for your support and encouragement. I have so many stories that I want to share in the hopes that no one buys a Louis Vuitton handbag thinking it will change their life! If only it could…thank you for the compliments and for sharing my post with your posse. Most affectionately, E.
I love this.
Dear Editrix: Wendy had so many awards but I guess she needed a bag to hold them. How poignant. And how identifiable, yes?
Ellen, this is a lovely piece of writing. But the moral is so sad. Poor Wendy. How did she feel about herslef when the bag went bag to its owner?
Dear Karina: There was no postscript to the story. What seemed hilarious at the time now looks so poignant and sad. Thank you for writing and trying to untangle the knot of Wendy Wasserstein. Regards, E.
Hi,
I loved this piece. I loved handbags long before they were popular and expensive. For me, I like a place to carry my comforts and my talismans. I like being organized and having what I need with me. It’s not a lot: some well edited pieces, chic, simple, etc. I won’t spend a lot for a bag. The one I use was not expensive but it’s easy to carry, easy to open. I admt that it’s a part of me somehow but I walk freely without it too.
I get your point though. We don’t need LV bags and other such “things” to be fabulous. What we need is a sense of self. Knowing who I am inside makes me eschew the Lindsey Lohan stuff of life. I choose what I want to carry and what goes in it. I don’t care what the others do. Love this piece over and over and over.
Emilyatheart
Dear Emily: We are who we are and not what we wear. You can love your bag but it’s more important to love the person carrying it. Thanks for writing! As ever, E.