When Luxury Is Only Skin Deep

I am deeply disappointed.

Today, I repaired a tote bag that retails for thousands of dollars. This particular bag is highly sought after and sits at the intersection of vintage aesthetic and modern appeal. It carries classic luxury motifs without the overly modern colors the brand has leaned into in more recent years. It is the kind of piece that feels timeless, intentional, and worth preserving.

I did not set out to interrogate luxury. I set out to repair a bag. I was dealing with a bubble inside the inner lining. The interior looked and felt like leather. Soft. Substantial enough that I had never questioned it. This time, I pressed the bubble. I lifted it. And suddenly, the lining tore away.

What was revealed underneath was thin, rigid, and unexpectedly papery. Not leather in the way most of us understand leather to be. Not a hide or a grain, but a structural backing layer designed to give shape and support rather than luxury or longevity.

That moment did something to me. First came confusion. Then disappointment. What I saw did not match the standard of luxury I had carried in my head for years when thinking about bags like this.

When we hear the phrase luxury leather bag, most of us picture something very specific. Thick hides. Rich interiors. Materials that feel substantial all the way through. Not just luxurious and beautiful on the outside, but luxurious, beautiful, and honest on the inside.

And if I am being honest, the inside of our bags holds our most important possessions. The keys to our homes. Wallets that carry our livelihoods. Sometimes our children’s items, which are not neatly or easily stored, but are nonetheless required. The items we rely on daily without thinking. The interior should be as durable and thoughtfully constructed as the exterior. Otherwise, we are limited to aesthetics rather than practicality.

This assumption feels reasonable. These bags cost thousands of dollars. Surely that price reflects material quality throughout. Right?

No, apparently, it does not.

The interior lining, while soft and leather-like to the touch, was an Alcantara-style material, a very fine synthetic fiber engineered to mimic the feel of suede. It was bonded to a composite backing that included reinforced fiber, chosen for structure and efficiency rather than craftsmanship. After doing extensive research, I learned this is standard practice in modern luxury fashion bags.

This was where the realization began to sting.

Luxury, at least in fashion, did not mean the best materials were used to craft an object that costs a ridiculous amount of money. It did not mean generous construction or heirloom-level craftsmanship. It meant, and still means, brand recognition. Consistency at massive scale. Visual durability. Cultural signaling.

The interior of the bag was not part of the performance. It was not meant to be seen, questioned, or understood. It was engineered to be “good enough.” Lightweight. Predictable. And perhaps most important, cost controlled.

What made this moment feel like a betrayal was not that anything was illegal or technically dishonest. It was that I held a conscious belief that quality existed at the top. That paying more meant getting more. That there was integrity behind the price tag.

When the interior failed, when the layers separated and revealed how the bag was truly built, the story I had told myself collapsed. What, then, are we paying for when we buy luxury bags?

We are paying for mid-tier craftsmanship and materials in exchange for brand recognition. What we are really paying for is belonging to a system of symbols that communicates value without explanation.

I do not yet know how I feel about this brand. I have long upheld it on a pedestal, one I now realize I need to revisit and research more honestly. But at the very least, I hope this helps someone pause and reconsider. That cute purse calling to you, the one that is not labeled “luxury,” may very well be more thoughtfully made, more durable, and more honest in its construction than the one that costs thousands of dollars.