Speedy30

I was 10 years old in the spring of 1985. My parents were house hunting in a city that was to become our home, and a friend was looking after us for a few days. I don’t recall having much awareness of the life change that was in store for us, but for a few days we adventured as sidekicks. Everything was new and different, my sister, brother, and I riding in the backseat of her BMW, the windows partway down to welcome the spring sunshine. I remember blooming dogwoods everywhere I looked and me behind the driver’s seat, her Louis Vuitton Speedy always at my feet. She always set it on the floor behind her seat and she would reach back while driving and rifle through it, pulling out a lipstick at the stoplight or wallet for the drive-through. My eyes kept going down to the floor, careful not to touch it with my shoe, taking in every detail of that bag – the repeating logo, the canvas texture, the padlock. I remember the way she carried it, unzipped, the rolled, leather handles hooked nonchalantly into the crook in her elbow. I dreamed of the bag, the style, the independence.

And then, I was turning 40. For months leading up to my birthday, I planned my birthday celebration in Paris with my husband. And then suddenly we were separated, just two months before. I was devastated, ashamed by what I felt was failure, and disoriented by what seemed like the inevitable dissolution of my marriage and what seemed like my whole life.

But willing myself to keep living into my life fully, I refused to yield. I would never turn forty again, so I decided at least I could keep my birthday date with Paris. I went for an entire week – my fortieth birthday spent alone with the city as my travel companion. I don’t know if it was courage or craziness, or perhaps both.

I carefully planned out every adventure to make the most of each moment, from corset shopping at Cadolle, Paris’ oldest lingerie shop, to champagne at the Ritz, hot chocolate at Angelina, Coco Chanel’s daily coffee cafe, queuing outside Christian Louboutin, an opera at Palais Garnier, and my birthday dinner at Alain Ducasse at Hotel Plaza Athénée. But it all constellated around one event – a visit to Louis Vuitton – on my birthday. I entered off the Champs-Elysées after a brief queue. Of course, I knew already what I wanted to purchase, but to imbibe of the whole experience and appreciate the anticipation of a deferred pleasure, I first perused the entire multi-storied store. And when I could stand the wait no more, I resisted the urge to feel intimidated and asked to see the Speedy 30, “s’il vous plait.”

When the sales associate returned, I tried to appear unaffected. But as I ran my fingertips over the canvas, I couldn’t contain the joy I felt. Launched in 1930 as a bag designed for the “busy, urban life,” the Speedy is still considered iconic, but to me it was more. It was a 30-year dream realized. I pretended to inspect the bag, but only to prolong the experience. And then I said I would take it.

I perched halfway on a highchair at the counter and sipped the flute of champagne I was handed as I waited for my bag to be boxed, bowed, and bagged. I took in the scene around me, the lovely bags practically shimmered, on perfectly illuminated display shelves behind every counter, and everywhere teemed with shoppers. No one paid attention to me, no one knew what this meant to me, they couldn’t have known the joy and exhilaration I felt inside. Certainly, it was a timeless bag, it was Louis Vuitton, it was Paris. But it was something else, something deeper. It was the culmination of a childhood desire. I remembered that awkward ten-year-old girl in the backseat of the BMW, wanting to be so much more, wanting to be grown and in charge of my life, longing for beauty even then. The classic monogram Speedy was a symbol of my growth into womanhood, the now arrival into midlife, the years of cultivating my ability to create the life I wanted for myself.  And now I was a woman entering her 40’s alone, not as I envisioned, but resilient, a little more confident, and a whole lot more brave.

A few years following the purchase of my Speedy, I met friends for dinner one evening. As we stepped out of the restaurant, my friend caught sight of the bag, dangling beside my right leg where I let it hang, my fingers hooked around the brown rolled handles. And she remarked, “I can’t believe you have that bag, it’s so old school.” I wasn’t sure how she meant the comment, but in all truth, I didn’t care one bit and I didn’t spend any energy trying to decode it. I knew what this bag meant, and no one could take that away from me. I just laughed in return.

Personal Styling with In-Form and Fashion – Whether it’s building a capsule wardrobe, refreshing your closet for the season, or reinventing your style—I’m here to help you align fashion with your personal journey of growth and self-expression.