A Ferrari? Give me a Hermès handbag, The Daily Telegraph

For women, it is one of the world’s most covetable luxuries. Bettina von Hase visits the Faubourg Saint-Honoré to find out why.

Travelling to Paris before Christmas is highly recommended, especially if your mission is to investigate the mystery of luxury handbags. The quilted Chanel, the padded nylon Prada, the Fendi baguette and the Tod's D-bag have captured our imaginations, but, for desirability, none has matched the bags produced by the French company Hermès.

Why do women behave in an irrational manner around Hermès handbags? Once obsession strikes, customers have to wait longer than three years for some models. That was until the waiting lists were temporarily closed owing to excessive global demand.

In a world in which handbags have become the defining status symbol of luxury fashion companies, Hermès bags are still the ones to beat. The company began by making equestrian goods and the bags have beautiful names like thoroughbreds in a sheikh's stable: Kelly, Birkin, Plume, Bolide and Massai.

The passing of time seems to play no part in lessening desire for them. I remember when I first laid eyes on a Hermès bag, as do most women who are hooked. I was 13 and fell in love, coup de foudre style — the kind of love that is immediate, intense and everlasting. The object in question was a black calf-leather Kelly, its owner an elegant friend of my mother.

I was allowed to touch the gleaming leather, open its straps with the famous golden lock and peek inside: I had never seen anything so beautifully made. In fact, I never did again until I grew up and discovered the Birkin.

The Birkin is an informal version of the Kelly, a hold-all with two handles instead of one. Both bags have become legendary. and even their maker is somewhat baffled by their global fame.

"For some strange reason, they have a success which is beyond our comprehension," says Pierre-Alexis Dumas-Hermès, 34-year.old managing director of the British branch and the son of Jean-Louis Dumas-Hermès. head of the family-owned company.

It is impossible to see a Birkin in the Hermes shops, let alone buy one — the moment it arrives, it is claimed by a desperate customer. One person who did not have to wait that long was the actress Jane Birkin, after whom the bag was named. The story has it that she met Jean-Louis on a plane and asked him to design a bag suitable for her life, which included constant travel and children.

A stampede followed its launch in 1984, as the bag adapted brilliantly to modern needs. It was large and practical for travel. which meant tall supermodels were photographed with it.

The Birkin has its roots in a 19th century French saddle bag, called the sac haut a courroies (high bag with straps). designed by Hermès in 1896. It also has similar features to a 19th.ccntury French tapestry travelling bag, which Jane Birkin had admired in the private Hermes museum on the third floor of the Paris headquarters.

This treasure trove is one of the keys to the success of the Hermès group. It is a collection of equestrian objects, dating from 2000 BC, built up by Emile-Maurice Hermès who, in the early 20th century, expanded the saddlemaker’s range into a modern luxury goods company.

Hermès uses the museum to inspire its designers, and its curator, Menehould du Chatelle. is an expert on why women are such devoted fans of the bags. "They are a symbolic image of femininity, timeless, soft but firm, with a mysterious quality," she says. "They are mysterious because simplicity and beauty is mysterious."

The other ingredient that has built up the company is an almost maniacal nurturing of craftsmanship. Hermès was founded in 1837 as a saddle- and harness-making business, and is now a £3.5 billion global player, with 4,239 employees, 203 shops around the world. and a 24 per cent increase in profits in the past six months. This is due not least to its 650 craftsmen. who are trained at the école nationale du cuir (national school of leather) for two years. before joining Hermès and completing a long apprenticeship. with supervision from the anciens (senior craftsmen).

One of these is 52-year-old Dominique Gravovil, who has been with Hermès for 35 years — he is now a contremaitre (foreman) of the workshops at Pantin. a suburb of Paris. "It's a very sensual way of working," he says. "You have to have a sense of detail, be in love with work well done, and respect the materials."

Watching the Birkin being made, I realise that the work is like micro-surgery. The bag is sewn by hand and machine, then the body is turned inside out and ironed for smooth perfection. There are more than 50 separate steps to make a bag and it takes approximately 18 hours. No wonder that near-hysteria broke out recently among devotees when the waiting lists were closed for the Kelly and Birkin. Rumours spread that Hermès could not find cow hides of sufficient quality, as the animals' diets had deteriorated. “The leather industry is dependent on the farming industry, which has obviously lowered its standards.” Pierre-Alexis says. “We now choose one hide in 500, and we won't. compromise on quality.”

As for the waiting lists, he closed them temporarily because things had spun out of control. “When you run a restaurant and 600 people are waiting outside, at some point you have to say, sorry. but for the moment we can't supply you.”

I did a test drive round Paris with one of the finished Birkins from the workshop — talk about respect. This was a toffee-coloured crocodile number, with a price tag of £9,500, the equivalent of a Ferrari for the boys. Waiting lists for Kellys and Birkins won’t last for ever, and if you want one now, you can always go to Sotheby's tomorrow at 2pm, and buy one at auction. Lots 301, 303 and 306 are crocodile Kellys in pristine condition. But I prefer to wait for a cow hide, hopefully a well-fed one, as my friend and fellow journalist Louise did.

"The first time I really wanted one was when I saw a photograph of Ines de la Fressange in French Elle," Louise says. "She was wearing blue jeans, loafers and a cashmere top. She was whippet-thin and carried a black Birkin, which I thought was the most glamorous thing I'd ever seen."

A few months later, Louise interviewed Jane Birkin and described her bag to me afterwards: "It was a dark-brown Birkin. I've never seen anything so stuffed full in my entire life. It had everything but the kitchen sink in it."

When my friend was summoned to the Sloane Street shop after a two-year wait, I had to accompany her for moral support.

"I felt guilt and uncertainty, but the moment I had bought it, I never looked back," she says. “I will never need another bag — it's solved that problem for ever. Much to my mother-in-law's amazement, I even carried my baby's milk bottles in it.”

Buying a Hermès bag is a rite of passage. It is a signal of being grown up and gives one a certain confidence. Perhaps that is why Vogue's January issue has declared the black Birkin one of the new essentials of the modern fashion icon. By bestowing grace on their owners, the bags have become icons themselves.

Still, sometimes it's a hazard to carry one around. A glamorous publishing executive friend of mine owns a tan-coloured Birkin, which proved a hindrance when asking for a salary increase. “I went in to see my boss, but he took one look at my bag and said: 'If you can afford that, you don't need me to give you a pay rise’.”