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March 14th 2008 07:24
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THE HOUSE OF GUCCI
March 10th 2008 22:24
Ok, I will have to admit it one day. Let it be known now.
I am obsessed with the house of Gucci.
Those monogrammed GGs, festooned on a bag, keychain, tie or runners: it keeps my adrenaline pumping.
Every trip to a Gucci store, may it be the local one here in Melbourne’s Collins Street, The Rocks in Sydney, or even my fave: the one in 5th Ave in Manhattan – each trip costs me a a pure adrenaline rush. A rush that forces me to leave with a Gucci bag and a credit card that has taken an absolute beating.
How did this eventuate, you may say?
Well, maybe we should blame the rap stars after all.
When I was eighteen, a broke university student on the verge of finding her own style, Paris Hilton emerged into the scene, relatively unknown outside the US, when she was just moving her bags from Manhattan to a shared mansion in Los Angeles with her sister Nicky.
I believe there maybe a Gucci bag in one of their photo ops, and I was equally fascinated with the bag as I was with this blonde bimbo and her lifestyle then. Then there were the rap stars, obsessed with singing about Gucci and wearing Gucci in such a vulgar way. Who would wear Gucci monogram outfits from top to bottom? Eve, Snoop, Ludacris – can the list go on even further?
Dirty ghetto music singing the praises of a luxurious brand?
My first bag was a beautiful brown mini speedy, bought with my best friend Sarah whilst trawling the second hand luxury shops of Hawthorn. It cost me $300.
From there, it escalated into Ebay purchases, or scrimping so hard for a proper Gucci store purchase or even begging my godparents to buy me one. These days, all I have to do is quote a style number or describe the bag in great detail and my godparents will just hand it to me, with the agreement of course that I need to pop by and visit them year after year overseas. I couldn’t have asked for a better agreement.
I’ve flirted with the other brands: Chanel, Fendi, Prada and Coach. An ex boyfriend once bought me a full Coach wallet and bag set, my godparents one of the ever first Fendi Spy bags out there (before it got infiltrated by the fakes market), and I even once found a beautiful Chanel bag from an Op shop.
But there’s something about Gucci that I obsess over, something about the GG logo that has my heart pumping, that I associate with old world luxury and a brand that can never age.
Could I ever stop being Gucci-whipped? Only time will tell.
I am obsessed with the house of Gucci.
Those monogrammed GGs, festooned on a bag, keychain, tie or runners: it keeps my adrenaline pumping.
The House of Gucci Logo- from Gucci.com
How did this eventuate, you may say?
Well, maybe we should blame the rap stars after all.
When I was eighteen, a broke university student on the verge of finding her own style, Paris Hilton emerged into the scene, relatively unknown outside the US, when she was just moving her bags from Manhattan to a shared mansion in Los Angeles with her sister Nicky.
I believe there maybe a Gucci bag in one of their photo ops, and I was equally fascinated with the bag as I was with this blonde bimbo and her lifestyle then. Then there were the rap stars, obsessed with singing about Gucci and wearing Gucci in such a vulgar way. Who would wear Gucci monogram outfits from top to bottom? Eve, Snoop, Ludacris – can the list go on even further?
Dirty ghetto music singing the praises of a luxurious brand?
The Ghetto does Gucci Prom
My first bag was a beautiful brown mini speedy, bought with my best friend Sarah whilst trawling the second hand luxury shops of Hawthorn. It cost me $300.
From there, it escalated into Ebay purchases, or scrimping so hard for a proper Gucci store purchase or even begging my godparents to buy me one. These days, all I have to do is quote a style number or describe the bag in great detail and my godparents will just hand it to me, with the agreement of course that I need to pop by and visit them year after year overseas. I couldn’t have asked for a better agreement.
I’ve flirted with the other brands: Chanel, Fendi, Prada and Coach. An ex boyfriend once bought me a full Coach wallet and bag set, my godparents one of the ever first Fendi Spy bags out there (before it got infiltrated by the fakes market), and I even once found a beautiful Chanel bag from an Op shop.
But there’s something about Gucci that I obsess over, something about the GG logo that has my heart pumping, that I associate with old world luxury and a brand that can never age.
Could I ever stop being Gucci-whipped? Only time will tell.
Gucci does the Party Pack
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