An "It Bag" is a high-priced designer handbag that becomes a best-selling cultural phenomenon—the object of a season's collective desire, or sometimes of an entire decade. The term itself was coined in the 1990s, when explosive growth in the handbag market had designers competing to produce a single, easily recognisable design that, if cleverly marketed, endorsed by the fashion press, or seen being carried by a celebrity, would become that season's must-have item. Yet the bags most people associate with the phenomenon—Chanel's 2.55, Hermès' Kelly and Birkin—were designed decades earlier. What changed in the 1990s was the machinery of desire: luxury conglomerates, celebrity imagery and editorial power combined to turn accessories into the industry's great profit engine.
The Enduring Allure of the 'It Bag'
The modern reader meets a curious paradox: the oldest icons predate the label. Chanel's 2.55 dates to February 1955, and Hermès' Kelly owes its covetability to Grace Kelly being seen carrying it, yet the phrase "It Bag" only entered fashion vocabulary with the 1990s and 2000s designer bag craze. As Harper's Bazaar fashion editor Amy de Klerk traces it, the shift came when fashion brands were bought up into huge luxury conglomerates and newly empowered creative directors were tasked with making much more money. For many houses, handbags became the answer: unlike ready-to-wear, accessories are the great unifier—no sizing limitations—and the markup on designer handbags is substantial.
Even before the term existed, the concept had a precursor. Giuliana Camerino, who founded the Venetian house Roberta di Camerino in 1945, is credited as one of the first designers to create the easily identifiable "status bag," with instantly recognisable artisan-made hardware and fabrics once reserved for clothing. The instinct—to make a bag legible as a marker of standing—long predates the marketing machinery that industrialised it.
The Formula for an Icon: Design, Celebrity, and Scarcity
Ask what actually elevates a bag, and even professionals hedge. "Defining an It bag is a little like finding love; it's something that you just feel in your gut," Libby Page, formerly Net-a-Porter's market editor, told Harper's Bazaar. "There is no one-size-fits-all." But across eras, a consistent combination of factors emerges—what Page argues must include being very popular and relevant to a seasonal style while also transcending trends.
The first factor is design recognition. An it-bag's silhouette is instantly identifiable; as one luxury retail analysis puts it, you do not simply want it because you need a handbag—you want it because you recognise it, associate it with a certain lifestyle, and understand what it represents. Design creates recognition, but culture gives that recognition meaning: a celebrity appearance can introduce a bag to millions, yet a single image rarely creates an icon. Permanence comes through recurrence across different settings, generations and forms of media.
Scarcity completes the equation. Certain combinations of Birkin and Kelly bags in rare leathers and sought-after colours can be exceptionally difficult to find, and the search itself becomes part of the experience. When a bag is hard to obtain directly from the brand, the pre-owned luxury market becomes even more attractive—a dynamic that now feeds back into a bag's perceived status. Sociological research on luxury branding, as one retailer's cultural history notes, shows brands strategically employ branding techniques to create exactly these status markers, communicating social hierarchy, financial achievement and personal taste.





