My First Designer Bag Taught Me A Whole Lot About Myself

I’ve just gotten my first designer bag at the age of 37 and learned a whole lot about myself in the process. Is it deep? Probably not. It’s a freaking bag, nothing less, nothing more. But I was surprised by the revelations, so let’s unpack it (a suitable pun for a post about a bag or what?)

Just so we are on the same page, the designer bag in question is Polène Cyme, not Chanel or Hermès, as you might have assumed from the title.

Polène bags are considered affordable luxury in the fashion world, meaning their quality is impeccable, while the price point is reasonable, if you consider spending 400 Euros on a bag reasonable at all. Because if you don’t, I get it. I would consider it a complete waste just a year ago.

What changed in the past year?

I want to say not much at all, but actually… I started earning my own money. It’s not the kind of money that could sustain our whole family, and yet it’s mine, earned by relying on my own mental faculties and my creativity. It makes me immensely happy and I guess allowed for a little bit of wasteful freedom.

I used to buy my bags from Zara or H&M or any other brand as long as the price was under 50 euros. I didn’t see the point of paying any more until I noticed I was burning through faux-leather bags at incredible speed: within half a year, they would become scratched, stained, and overall worn out, at which point I would search for a replacement, meaning in two years I spent about 200 euros on bags.

What used to serve me before kids couldn’t withstand the kind of beating a mother’s bag has to endure. From holding everything from toys to food leftovers to a bicycle helmet; to being occasionally pulled at, sat on and being abused by tiny curious hands. So I cautiously looked at more expensive options and wondered if it’s worth “investing” in a good-quality piece.

Despite me earning an income of my own, our financial situation as a family didn’t change much. I could afford a Polène bag a year ago. And my husband, who was and still is the bread winner, so to say, would support me wholeheartedly if the purchase was reasonable and made me happy.

The official recommendation from financial planners is that the amount you spend on a luxury bag should be no more than 1-2% of your annual net income. You should be able to pay for it without using a credit card and buying it won’t make you cut back on essentials.

So logically I pass. But, and this is the revelation number one: I didn’t really believe I could afford it. When I looked at the 400 euro price tag, I thought: Wow! That’s crazy! Why would anyone…? How could I ever…?

I have a kind of block inside, a voice that quietly says: what designer bags, Yulia? You come from a provincial town in Russia, not Beverly Hills. Sit the hell down.

On the one hand, it might be a good thing that prevents me from chasing brands and spending inordinate amount of money on bags and clothing. On the other hand, the only way I could convince myself that I deserve a designer bag was by setting a goal and making the bag — a prize for reaching it.

Revelation number two: apparently I have to earn the right to buy something I like.

Suffice it to say, the goal was business related and I worked on it for 8 months. I reached it in May, was beyond myself with excitement for about a day, moderately happy for another 48 hours, after which I decided reaching the goal was not such a big deal anyways. What bag? This is stupid… Maybe I should set another, bigger goal… and once I reach that… then I will really, truly deserve a Polène bag. Checkmate.

Revelation number three: I am not very good at celebrating my own achievements.

The above is a shortened version of a 5-minute-long voice message I sent to my friend Yvonne, who, like a true friend, came through with irrefutable arguments on why I should buy the bag.

The first was that I must keep promises made to myself. Essentially, if I don’t keep the promise this time I will not be able to trust myself in the future. And, if I ever tie a reward to a goal again, on subconscious level I will sabotage my own progress. Damn, girl!

The second argument, which might be even better, was a simple question. If you promised your husband to buy something he really wants once he achieves a goal and then he proceeded to achieve said goal, would you think twice about buying the present? Would you ask him to set a bigger goal first?

Revelation number four: I have wise friends who genuinely cheer me on.

I was convinced. Now the only thing left to do was choose the right Polène bag. I was torn between buying my dream — Cyme, their most popular model, a gorgeous spacious shoulder bag — and what seemed practical — Numéro Dix, a smaller bag with a long strap, perfect to wear cross body which is the only way I’ve been wearing bags ever since becoming a mom.

With that question I went to my stylist. Yeah, I know how that sounds, but hear me out. I don’t have a stylist in the same way Zendaya or Rihanna do: someone who dresses you for every occasion. Rather, I worked with a stylist once about 3 years ago, after the birth of my second son, to make my wardrobe fit my new lifestyle better (possibly, a topic for another post? What do we think?) Since then, I ask her opinion when in doubt.

Her reply started with: ohhhhhh Yulya… I don’t want to destroy your dream, but… The gist of it was that the bag is beautiful and of high quality, but she couldn’t recommend it in good conscience since Polène had become mainstream in the recent years and everyone and their mother owns their bags. She said I should totally get it if it was my heart’s desire, but if I was looking for her professional opinion, I should consider other options, which she kindly offered.

She was right. In Hamburg, I see approximately 5 Polène bags a day (and 10 knock-offs), especially after they opened a boutique store in the city, which is where I found myself later that same day. Accidentally on purpose. I will just take a peek. I will not buy. I want to be unique and stylish.

I kept my promise and did not buy the bag which took all of my will power and pretty much running out of the store before I could reach for the wallet. At home, I checked all of my options again, read dozens of reviews, and sent photos to my girlfriends asking for advice.

Logically, it made sense to buy DeMellier New York or Yuzefi Mochi bag recommended by the stylist. They were in the same price range as Polène, of the highest quality, not to mention I would stand out instead of blending in.

In the end, Yvonne once again came through with the right question: which bag will make you happy?

The truth is, as chic as DeMellier New York or Yuzefi Mochi are, they make me feel nothing. I spent 8 months looking at the picture of Polène bag on my 2026 wish list. I obsessed over my goal, and that bag was a confirmation that I could and I did. Even if it’s as ridiculous as walking on a treadmill for an hour in order to eat a slice of cake. I went back to Polène store the next day.

One last revelation, number five: I choose to be happy over being trendy. Or… or… I am a basic bitch. Depends on how you look at it.