Vogue aired a matter of public import last week, posing the question on all our lips: “Can Sarah Jessica Parker make the wide-open bag trend happen?” Pictures of the Fendi bag in question showed it shamelessly flaunting its purple sequinned lining for all the world to see. Apparently, it’s deliberate (the bag went down the catwalk like that, keep up) and part of a wider trend for gaping leather goods: “We saw similar styles at Loewe, Chanel and Louis Vuitton.”
So, can she? Vogue says it’s “chic and insouciant”, while conceding it’s also “polarising”. But if anyone can make an unlikely trend happen, it’s SJP. She – or at least her Carrie Bradshaw alter ego – has already popularised name necklaces, vast corsages, even vaster duvet coats and “satin Maison Margiela Tabi Monster bow pumps” (Vogue again) for WFH – I’m wearing mine now, obvs. The JW Anderson pigeon handbag she carried on And Just Like That sold out.
Despite this, several entries to the “hell, no” column come to mind. First, this might work if your handbag contents are fit for public consumption – a Dries Van Noten lipstick and an esoteric Fitzcarraldo novel (the ones with chic blue minimalist covers), say – but most women’s aren’t. I’ve inventoried my handbag here before, but I just glanced into its sordid depths and spotted such delights as a single foam earplug, four wooden forks, interdental brushes, nasal spray, plasters and an open sachet of Savoury Fibre Boost Seed Mix (I stand by this – it is invaluable both for human hunger pangs and attracting any discerning birds I might meet). Most handbags contain darker secrets than a confession booth.
Second, I don’t know how things go in New York, where Parker lives, but in Old York, walking around with an open handbag would present a real danger, not of pickpockets, but of helpful people saying: “Excuse me love, your bag’s open.” I know this because my bag has a busted pocket, and it happens constantly, even though the only thing on show is more Savoury Fibre Boost Seed Mix. If only I could get my hands on a JW Anderson pigeon.
• Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist
