Art by Jack Vhay.
There is a particular scene in The Devil Wears Prada where Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway) meets up with her not-so-supportive friends after work, during which she handled an emergency in the accessories department. She hands out goodies from Runway, the Vogue-like magazine at which she works. A $1,100 slim phone for her doting boyfriend (Adrien Grenier), a little Clinique for her fashion-savvy friend, and a Marc Jacobs bag for her other friend. What follows is a discussion about accessories, bags in particular, which is born out of a mansplaining moment from the boyfriend: “You have one. You put all your junk in it, and that’s it. You’re done.” He’s wrong. Bags are not just sacks to carry junk, although many of us do in fact carry junk in our bags. Bags can be best described through the words of Andy’s sort-of-gay friend (Rich Sommer): “Fashion is not about utility. An accessory is merely a piece of iconography used to express individual identity.” So much is true for the iconic Telfar bag: an accessory that fits all your junk but also stands for a look, an attitude, and even a whole neighborhood.
Every year, there’s an “it-bag.” Fendi, Gucci, Balenciaga, Chloé, Dior, and other long-standing fashion houses have had their moments. Usually, no matter the accessory, they share two commonalities: they’re pretty and expensive. Enter Telfar Clemens and his array of simple bags adorned with his recognizable T logo and an accessible price range ($140 to $230). In the spirit of the democratization of the “it-bag” around the world, we, the Interview editors, called in an SSENSE-exclusive extra-extra large orange Telfar bag and took it for a spin. What sort of junk would we carry inside? From Juul pods to White Claw and Aviva Drescher’s leg, it’s a carry.
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MEL OTTENBERG
Creative Director
“I would wear all denim and rep NYC with this bag. I want one. Gia Kuan [Telfar’s PR rep] I want one!”
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SARAH NECHAMKIN
Digital Editor
“Advil, Advil, more Advil (free-release gels), a crumpled up copy of three-weeks old New Yorker, four aromatherapy vapes (different flavors), a pair of airplane headphones, Altoids, more Altoids, digestive enzymes, Liv Tyler’s lips phone, a Gucci Coronavirus mask, a Nan Goldin coffee table book, one Reebok, three overdue therapy bills, my liberal arts diploma, a case of White Claw, the entire Boy Smells Chromesthesia collection, another Telfar bag, all 9 Celine perfumes, 40 receipts, 50 scrunchies, three beanies of lovers’ past.”
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BELLA KHOSHABA
Market Assistant
“I’d like to be carried in the bag.”
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MARK BURGER
Digital Editorial Assistant
“I would use it to carry several increasingly smaller Telfar bags like a designer Russian nesting doll, and at the center would be a bottle of red wine, a phone charger, and a single joint. This bag is reserved for weeknight work events where I find myself saying things like, ‘Sorry, are these eggrolls vegan?’ and ‘Let’s circle back tomorrow.’ Also, when people mention the size of the bag, I’d just say, ‘It’s an Aquarius thing.'”
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SHANTI ESCALANTE
Editorial Intern
“My snacks: salted almonds, Milanos (double milk chocolate), 30 deformed fun-sized Kind bars, Ricola, leftover rompope from Christmas, blue Doritos, burgundy Doritos, organic Doritos, puffy Cheetos, a box of chamomile tea, a big bottle of honey from Costco’s, some brown guacamole in a Tupperware, three different chai tea lattes with oat milk—all disappointing. My subway reading: The Kingkiller Chronicle (vol. 1 and 2 but where is #3 Mr. Patrick Rothfuss?), Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari’s A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia, plus The Changeling by Joy Williams. Extra clothing: underwear, socks, several thrifted items that are too big for me that I thought I could make work, and a two-piece suit á la Janelle Monae.”
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MITCHELL NUGENT
Manager, Brand Marketing & Partnerships
“It’s 2005. I just dyed my hair platinum blonde. My diet consists of Red Bull and Marlboro Reds. I’m writing this on my Swarovski-bedazzled T-Mobile Sidekick II. I’m on the way to Cannes from the Herbie: Fully Loaded premiere. I am Lindsay Lohan. I’m carrying Aviva Drescher’s spare leg.”
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BESSIE RUBINSTEIN
Editorial Intern
“I am going to the Walter Reade Theater at Film Society of Lincoln Center. I am carrying all of the books I’ve read up to, but no more than, 50 pages of (the books I haven’t finished are mostly nonfiction because I read for pleasure, not self-education) so that that I could finally get through them.”
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HARRY BRANT
Contributing Editor
“I would bring Telfar’s large orange shopping bag on a date to Central Park, and fill it will a bottomless supply of treats à la Mary Poppins. First, I would pack a big blanket and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot champagne (to break the ice, and hopefully temper any first date jitters). Next, I’d head uptown to get some cake from Lady M bakery, and a box of candy from Maison Du Chocolat! You never know when you’re going to need a touch-up, so I’d be sure to bring a little compact mirror and a few essential products. Some Becca Under Eye Brightening Corrector, a violet Serge Lutens Water lip stain, a stick of Color Science powder sunscreen (to shield me from the sun’s insidious glare), and lastly, my New York State ID, so we can slip into the Met after our picnic and spend the remainder of the day gawking at art. Also, I’d need to bring my Juul so that I can inevitably lose it and ignore my date for hours as I frantically retrace my steps.”
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JACK VHAY
Designer
“I’m probably heading to Port Authority. #peterpanbuslines #sponsorme. Let’s get the obvious items out of the way: phone, wallet, keys. After adding those essentials, there’s still enough space left in the bag to park a Revel scooter. So, I’d also toss in my Klean Kanteen insulated stainless steel water bottle, whatever material I’m reading on the subway (currently The City and The Pillar by Gore Vidal), Burt’s Bees lip balm, AirPods, sunglasses with case, Glide Pro-Health mint floss, some kind of Power Bar (to fuel my speed-walking), and about 5,000 perfume samples amassed from every fragrance shop south of Houston St. during an afternoon of going into said shops, spending half an hour smelling everything with care, and pretending like I’m not just there for freebies.”