I spent $2,400 on a bag that I can’t even fit my phone in comfortably because I wanted to look like a specific type of person. We’ve all been there, or at least, those of us who have a weird, slightly toxic relationship with luxury leather goods have. Gucci is a minefield. One year they’re doing high-concept Renaissance geek-chic, and the next they’re slapping logos on literally anything that stays still long enough. It’s exhausting to keep up with, and frankly, most of what they put out is overpriced canvas that won’t last five years of actual use.
The one bag that actually lives up to the hype
If you’re looking for the best handbags gucci currently makes, you have to start and probably end with the Jackie 1961. I’m biased because I own two, but hear me out. It’s the only bag they make that doesn’t feel like it’s trying too hard. It’s got that hobo shape that just tucks under your arm perfectly. I remember taking mine to a wedding in upstate New York three years ago—it was raining, the grass was muddy, and I ended up using the bag as a makeshift shield for my head at one point. It survived. It didn’t just survive; the leather got this slightly lived-in patina that made it look better.
I might be wrong about this, but I think the small size is the only one worth buying. The mini is a joke—you can fit a lipstick and maybe a single house key—and the large looks like you’re carrying a laundry bag. The small is the sweet spot. It has that piston closure which is satisfyingly clicky, though it can be a pain if you’re trying to get your wallet out while holding a coffee and a dog leash. Anyway, I’m getting off track.
Speaking of weddings, I remember seeing someone at that same event with a bright neon Ophidia tote. It looked like it belonged in a gift shop at an airport. That’s the thing about Gucci—half the catalog is timeless and the other half is just… loud. I genuinely believe the GG Supreme canvas is mostly just overpriced plastic and if you buy the Ophidia tote, you’re being scammed by a marketing department that knows you want the logo more than the quality. There. I said it.
A very specific warning about the Dionysus
The Dionysus is beautiful. It’s a work of art. It’s also a medieval torture device for your shoulder. I’m not exaggerating. I weighed my medium Dionysus on a kitchen scale last week: 1.2 kilograms. Empty. That’s nearly 3 pounds of bag before you even put a phone or a wallet inside. By the time I add my essentials, I’m basically carrying a small dumbbell around Soho.
The Dionysus chain is basically a medieval torture device for your trapezoid muscles.
I bought mine in 2017 in Florence. I was caught up in the romance of the flagship store and the smell of the leather. I wore it for four hours straight the next day and had a genuine bruise on my collarbone. I still have the bag because I’m a hoarder, but I only wear it if I know I’m going from a car to a chair and back to a car. If you’re someone who actually walks—like, walks for more than ten minutes at a time—stay away from this one. It’s a gorgeous mistake.
I’m going to lose friends over this: The Marmont rant
I hate the Marmont. I know everyone has one. I know they’re the “entry-level” Gucci bag. But the leather is too soft. It’s like a marshmallow that’s been sat on. I bought a white Marmont camera bag in 2018 and it was the single worst financial decision of my 20s. Within twenty minutes of leaving the house, I spilled a flat white on it. The leather absorbed the coffee like a sponge. I tried to clean it, but the “matelassé” stitching just trapped the stain. It looked like a dirty pillow within a month.
It’s tacky. That’s the whole verdict. The giant GG on the front feels like you’re shouting at people in the street. It lacks the subtlety of the Horsebit or the Jackie. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. The Marmont is for people who want everyone to know they spent $1,500. The Jackie is for people who just want a good bag. I actively tell my friends to avoid the Marmont even though it’s the most “affordable” option. It doesn’t hold its shape, the resale value is tanking, and it just feels… dated. Like 2016 in a bad way.
The math of “Investment”
People talk about bags as investments, which is mostly a lie we tell ourselves to justify the credit card bill. But if we’re looking at numbers, the Horsebit 1955 is probably the smartest play. I’ve tracked the prices on the secondary market for about 18 months, and the 1955 holds about 70-75% of its retail value if you keep the box. Compare that to the Marmont which drops to like 40% the second you walk out the door.
- Jackie 1961: Best for looking like you have your life together.
- Horsebit 1955: Best for actual daily use (the strap is adjustable!).
- Dionysus: Best for sitting on a shelf and looking pretty.
- Bamboo 1947: Best for feeling like a 1950s movie star, but the handle is annoying to hold.
I used to think that the more a bag cost, the more I would use it. I was completely wrong. My most expensive Gucci bag sits in a dust bag in my closet 350 days a year because it’s too heavy and too fragile. The one I use the most is a beat-up Horsebit I found at a vintage shop in Paris that has a scratch across the front. It feels real. It doesn’t feel like a “content piece.”
The Jackie is like that one friend who looks good even when they’re hungover. It’s effortless. Everything else in the current lineup feels like it’s screaming for attention. I don’t know if I’ll ever buy another new Gucci bag, honestly. The prices keep going up—I think the Jackie went up another $300 last year—and the quality feels… thinner? Maybe I’m just getting older and more cynical about the whole thing.
Do we even buy these for ourselves anymore, or are we just buying them for the people we pass on the street? I don’t know. I still love the way the leather smells when I open the box, but that feeling lasts about ten minutes. The debt lasts a lot longer. If you’re going to do it, just get the Jackie and be done with it. It’s the only one that feels like a real bag and not a fashion statement that will be embarrassing in three years.
Worth every penny. Mostly.
