“What's even in there, huh? Flat shoes for the subway? Her lunch pail? I mean, Greg, it's monstrous. It's gargantuan…” It was a “ludicrously capacious bag,” according to Tom Wambsgans from Succession, whose speech about Cousin Greg’s “gauche” date, Bridget, and her “giant” bag quickly went viral, not only because its ridiculous analogies were instantly quotable (“You could slide it across the floor after a bank job”), but also because it functioned as a maxim of the hit HBO series.
As delineated masterfully by The Cut’s Danya Issawi, this rant captured the class idiosyncrasies that made Succession so engrossing (and equally so cringeworthy). A Roy would rather be caught dead than carrying an easily spottable Burberry bag. Why? Because that doesn’t fit with the “quiet luxury” (or as Issawi calls it: “stealth wealth”) that defined their closets—the expensive, well-tailored and logo-less pieces that have since popped up everywhere.
But what about those of us who aren’t striving to display quiet luxury (and don’t have the means to do so anyway)? This fall, I’m saying to hell with quiet luxury and embracing what I like to call “loud garbage.”
