Perhaps We All Need a Louis Vuitton Neverfull Bag
Trust me...it's time we embrace this marketing girl-beloved bag.
Today for #NEVERWORNS, I’m talking about the bag you can’t unsee and I can’t shut up about…the Louis Vuitton Neverfull. PS. A new #NEVERWORNS episode is HERE about old Abercrombie & Fitch clothes with Marcus Allen (<3!). The clothes are dropping tomorrow. As always, subscribe to the Substack, watch the YouTube, and buy #NEVERWORNS clothes here if you want to get freaky!
The other day, my friend sent me a funny TikTok that read “POV youre a middle aged white lady in a pyramid scheme.” The TikTok then flashed several red hot fashion bags including a funhouse mirror-stretched oval Coperni bag in light blue, a Loewe puzzle bag the color of a sidewalk, and a Bottega Veneta Jodie bag in that cartoon grass green hue. The last bag—the pyramid scheme one—was a Louis Vuitton Neverfull, specifically in the white Damier Azur print. Originally created in 2007 as a beach bag, it is a bottomless pit of space—hence the name “Neverfull”—and yet, no matter how heavy it becomes—it can hold up to 200lbs!—its two thin straps are mysteriously unbreakable. There are several versions, but I mostly see the checkerboard Damier or the LV print. They range from the smallest, the PM (Petit Modèle) for $2,030; to the MM (Moyen Modèle) for also $2,030; to the MM (Grand Modèle) that typically hovers around $2,100 to $2,400 upwards to $2,900 for speciality versions.
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I’ve seen this bag and its many iterations before. Actually, I see at least one a day. And depending on what part of New York I’m in, I see one every hour—or minute. I can’t unsee a Neverfull. It’s everywhere, rearing its monogrammed canvas head, big enough to carry a two-year-old. Go to Tribeca or Midtown and it’s as ubiquitous as a hair tie, slung over shoulders leaving Wholefoods, marinating on the ground at La Colombe, or brimming with Alo Yoga workout clothes, ever so slightly tipping over on an Equinox bench. On the internet, especially on YouTube, it is one of the most contentiously reviewed bags with hundreds of women with bleached teeth analyzing the compartments of the carryall, poking and prodding the blush pink innards of their Neverfulls. (They swear by it for traveling!)
According to Sotheby’s, the Neverfull is the sixth most popular bag from Louis Vuitton. Yet, I’ve never seen it in Vogue, or really any other fashion magazine. When I worked at Vogue, located in the World Trade Center in lower Manhattan—the epicenter of commute and finance—I would spot women, usually in nondescript business clothes, carrying everything and anything in their Neverfulls. After all, I see these pieces mostly in the finance/HR/marketing world where there are often strict suited-and-booted dress codes. In many of these cases, a Louis Vuitton Neverfull is a bonus flex, a practical I-got-promoted signifier that neatly fits into the corporate world of lugging and luxury. And yet, in this same location, which is also the plexus of fashion media, I saw the bag only a handful of times in the whole Condé Nast building after almost nine years.
Among fashion colleagues, I’ve always felt that the cup is half full (!) for the Neverfull. My group chats are laden with the word “basic” whenever I bring up the canvas sack. I know that searing classification has to do with fashion’s perspective (and hangups) on when a product saturates the market. In the fashion industry, we are encouraged to express ourselves—with the fullest freedom—through our clothes, and as always, a bag is a cornerstone of a look. Fashion people are constantly asking themselves: How do I stand out? How do I make my mark? So what are we saying when we are wearing the same bag as everyone else? The perceived accessory of a Christian Girl Autumn hellscape?
Then again, see how many times fashion has recontextualized the modest UGG boot to the luxury Chanel Classic Flap bag? I have hope for the Neverfull and believe there is space for it in the fashion-verse. That “basic bag” could easily become a classic and metamorphosize to the look of any owner. (And ultimately, it’s a useful bag crafted to haul. The women who wear it are on to something. ) As always, how we view a product is in the eye of the beholder or, in this case, the holder: Someone who can translate a universal piece like the Neverfull into their own freaky outfit is probably a great, radical dresser.
I’ve seen it worn beyond the confines of the World Trade Center, too. While I was in Italy, I spotting super stylish women in their freaky one-off spectacles toting along Neverfulls. The other day, a friend sent me a screen shot of an elegant Cruella type on an Upper East Side street style TikTok slinging along a Neverfull. She was wearing it with a long black wool coat with a hulking fur-trimmed collar and sleeves. So chic. I enjoyed seeing the bag dressed up. Something to note: The best Neverfulls have age and a patina, which I love. Just knowing that they’ve been put to worn-to-shit use is an amazing look.
Inspired, I almost bought a secondhand Neverfull myself. I went to Rebag and traded two bags to buy a new one. Of course, I was thinking about the Neverfull. (Fun fact: I was also thinking about the Goyard tote but the woman at Rebag told me that the Goyard flakes and there is no structure.) But even after all the game I talked to my fashion friends about redefining this bag in my own world, I still couldn’t take the plunge on the Neverfull. I needed, yes, to still be a bit different and flex my love of vintage. (See, there’s that “I’m different” fashion complex again.) Instead of the Neverfull, I ended up getting a defunct Louis Vuitton Luco tote, which is as stiff as a board, extremely narrow, and has a large, square silhouette that makes me appear serious, like I’m going to take you to screw you…in court. The bag is beautiful but there are some drawbacks thanks to its hairline fracture shape: What about my sparkly microphone for my Neverworns episodes? What about my 1.5 liter bottle of water that is like an appendage for me? I needed more room. My bag, well, it was too full.
