OVER the past few months, the luxury brand Balenciaga has become associated with…garbage.
That's not a criticism of the company or its designs – the same fashion house that debuted a faux "trash bag" earlier this year is making headlines again with its Lay's potato chips purse.
Creative director Demna Gvasalia after the pouches were revealed in Balenciaga's summer 2023 lineup.
The rumored price tag for the clutch is anywhere between $1,500 and $1,800, but I made my own family-size version for $4.59.
After decanting my classic Lay's into a recyclable container (read: dumping them in a paper sack), I repurposed the original bag by shoving all my stuff in there.
On the basis of size alone, the Lay's bag was easier to handle than my version of the Balenciaga trash bag purse.
READ MORE: FASHION
While I gave my trash bag a bright-yellow tag to imbue it with designer status, I only needed a fine-point Sharpie to add my own Balenciaga branding to the chips.
I didn’t think my Lay's bag would elicit the strong response my enormous trash bag had, but I was delighted when New Yorkers and tourists alike loved the humble handbag.
Walking around Bryant Park with my videographer colleague, I was shocked by the number of smiles and thumbs-ups the bag received, along with a few requisite NYC blank stares.
One person shouted that I was a movie star – surely he meant I belonged in Lay's commercials – and an amateur paparazzo snapped me with his film camera.
Most read in Fashion
When it was time to ask people for their honest opinions on the homemade handbag, I encountered a wide range of replies.
A woman named Julia, visiting from Germany, was uncertain about appearing on camera at first, citing her English skills as the reason for her reluctance.
Once we engaged in conversation, though, it was clear that her English was excellent – and she immediately had a suggestion for future Balenciaga releases.
"I would carry a bag that looks like chips because I love chips," Julia told me.
She added that, while she loves Lay's, she'd be more likely to carry a bag of Ruffles, especially her favorite flavor, cheddar and sour cream.
While the Lay's classic yellow is "safe," the orange-and-blue Ruffles color scheme speaks to a somewhat avant-garde sensibility.
Maybe, then, a bag of Ruffles would be a better fit for Dylan, who we encountered doing yo-yo tricks in the center of the park like some sort of puckish trickster god.
He was happy to put his yo-yo aside to provide some firm (but fair!) feedback on my bag.
"Yellow's a little out right now, moving into fall/winter," he explained, gesturing at my own sweater and muted plaid slacks to make his point.
Though he'd probably choose a honey mustard or barbecue-flavored bag to round out his wardrobe, Dylan said the bag itself seemed practical – bargain or Balenciaga.
"You fit a lot in there," he said after I listed the contents for him. "It seems like a good bag."
Across the park, Sheila said she liked my purse, but even the $4.59 version wouldn't suit her needs.
Fusing fashion with utility, Sheila showed off her convertible cross-body bag, which had enough pockets to make a pair of cargo shorts jealous.
Because she's always on the go, Sheila told me, she needs a bag with straps and a handle, and my Lay's bag had neither.
Most of the people who liked my purse said they'd be more willing to save money and repurpose an actual bag of chips than splash out on a luxury item.
A woman named Rocio said she'd never spend $1,800 on any article of clothing, but she'd consider carrying a Lay's bag if it matched her outfit.
Whether the bag would coordinate with an existing wardrobe seemed to be the selling point for a lot of people, actually.
Julia loved the signature yellow Lay's bag, as did Mara, another woman I chatted with.
"If it looks like the real thing anyway, why spend that much?" she asked.
Considering the price savings, she said, it really didn't seem that strange to reuse rubbish for fashion's sake.
"I mean, it's New York City. Nobody's going to care," she added.
The biggest critics I encountered in the park weren't even human.
A number of pigeons made a tentative approach upon seeing my purse, then flew away when they recognized my sartorial subterfuge.
No squirrels even tried to examine my bag, which was devastating.
Honestly, if it hadn't been for the microphone and camera in tow, I don't think anyone would've looked twice at my "Balenciaga."
The bag was unassuming, practical, and surprisingly sturdy, all criteria that appeal to city-dwellers.
READ MORE SUN STORIES
Even after an hour of manhandling, the edge of the bag had minimal fraying. Still, once I got back to the office, I put the bag in the garbage can.
I have plenty of purses at home, and most of them can hold way more than one bag of chips – the only metric that matters to me.