How Owning Too Many Hermes Bags Quietly Changed My Friendships
I never thought a stack of leather bags would shift my relationships, but here we are
A few years ago I went pretty hard on Hermes. First it was one Kelly that I saved up for, then a Birkin that felt like a reward after a big work year, then… well, you know how it goes. Suddenly I had options for every outfit, every trip, every mood. I told myself it was just “building a collection.” What I didn’t realize was that it was also quietly rewriting how people saw me and how I showed up around them.
The first change was small. A friend I’ve known since college invited me to her birthday dinner at this casual Italian spot. I showed up with a Togo Birkin because it felt comfy and low-key (to me). She hugged me, then did this quick double-take at the bag when I hung it on the chair. The vibe stayed warm, but something felt slightly off the rest of the night. Later she texted saying she was happy for me, but I could read between the lines. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, more like a new distance.
Then there were the group trips. The girls who used to borrow my Zara jackets without thinking twice suddenly got weird about my bags. One friend literally asked if she could “just hold” my Constance for photos but seemed nervous actually using it. Another stopped inviting me to certain shopping days altogether. When I finally asked her about it she admitted, “It’s hard not to compare when you walk in with something I’ll never own.”
The weirdest part? Some friendships actually got stronger, but in a very specific way. My friend Maya, who’s always been super successful herself, started bringing her own pieces out more. We bonded over the weird maintenance stuff no one talks about, the dust bags, the hardware polishing, the paranoia of rain. It turned into this private little club. But with others, it created this invisible wall.
I started catching myself downplaying what I was carrying. “Oh this old thing” even when it was brand new. Or switching to a lower-key tote before certain meetups. That felt exhausting and also kind of dishonest.
Looking back, the bags didn’t ruin any friendships, but they definitely filtered them. Some people pulled closer out of genuine excitement and shared interest. Others drifted because luxury on that level highlights differences that used to be easier to ignore.
And a few relationships turned strangely transactional, sudden interest when they needed something “nice” for an event.
I still love my collection. But I’m more conscious now about how I move through the world with it. Sometimes I leave the serious pieces at home, not because I’m ashamed, but because I miss the version of friendships that didn’t come with a price tag attached.
Has anyone else experienced this? The quiet social shift when your taste (and budget) level up? Would love to hear I’m not the only one.