Earlier in Back Row:
Few truths are universally accepted in 2025. But the fashion-inclined masses seem to agree on this: You can’t just walk into an Hermès store for the first time and walk out with a Birkin, even if you have $12,100 to spend on the 25 cm size. (A mini Kelly in Epsom leather, however, will save you $2,100.)
Lore around the bags has been fomenting since Samantha Jones failed to acquire one on her first try on Sex and the City in 2002 (she later did for the adorable price of $4,000). Hermès does little to illuminate their selling strategy for Birkins and Kellys, also called “quota bags” because they limit clients to two per year. This is most likely to prevent reselling, though the internet also says the strategy promotes the bags’ exclusivity. Mind you, the bag is so everywhere that Walmart recently sold a viral dupe and Heidi Montag wore a “crystal Birkin dress” (by Namilia, not Hermès) in her “I’ll Do It” music video.
But the general understanding among clients and aspiring quota bag buyers is that you have to spend a lot on other Hermès products before they offer to sell you a Birkin or Kelly.
“My friends have this theory,” one longtime Hermès client told me, “Say a mini Kelly at the store is 7,000 euros and the resale value is 30,000. They're going to make you spend a minimum of 30,000.” (In 2025, a new mini Kelly costs 7,450 euros.)
The client, who asked for anonymity to avoid getting black-listed by Hermès (they have their heart set on a specific Kelly), said Hermès clients call these auxiliary purchases “garbage.” “Anything that's not a quota bag is basically garbage.”
This client also said they know someone who spends millions annually at Hermès, for whom quotas do not exist: “If you're spending money, they're never going to say no to you.”
It’s difficult to sort myth from reality when it comes to this brand. Hermès claims they can’t keep up with demand, though former salespeople and clients dispute this. If Hermès revealed its secrets, the peculiar, gamified experience of trying to buy a Birkin would be ruined, the bags’ perceived value obliterated.
I interviewed six people about how they bought their Birkins and Kellys. Some stories contain legend that would be difficult to verify, but it gives you a sense of how brilliant the Hermès racket is. One thing many people I spoke to said was that the process of buying a bag was strangely addictive.
This is part one. Part two will be published soon for paid subscribers.
“I would walk out of the boutique and see people crying.”
—Tessy, who lives in Switzerland, buyer and re-seller of one Birkin.
“I was 23 and working in fashion in Paris. I became friends with someone who owned at least 30 quota bags. He told me how difficult it was to buy them. I became curious to see if I could get one.
“He briefed me over the span of a week about how to buy a bag. He said a lot of people hire younger women to buy and re-sell them. Buyers were hiring people to stand in the queue beginning at 4:00 to 6:00 AM, which to me still sounds insane. My friend paid one of his friends around 100 euros to queue for me. Most of the queue is tourists. Once you get in the store and ask for an appointment [to buy a bag], they might be like, ‘Sorry, we're out of appointments for today.’ I would walk out of the boutique and see people crying because their flight was later that day and they didn’t get a bag.
“My first try, I got nothing. I was so discouraged. My second try, I got an appointment, but no bag. The third time, I thought I needed to look like a billionaire's daughter, so I wore a Chanel flap bag and stilettos. I went through the silk scarves and bracelets, which I didn’t intend to buy. When a sales associate said, ‘Is there anything else I can help you pick out?’ I brought up the quota bags. She said they have no bags that day, which I knew was a lie.
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