The hype about Herve - love it or bag it? - The Cavalier Daily - University of Virginia's Student Newspaper

Twenty-five. No, it's not the number of pages my upcoming research paper has to be, and it's not the number of days until Easter. Heck, it's not even the number of daiquiris I drank over Spring Break. Rather, 25 is the number of Herve Chapelier bags I spotted around Grounds the other day.

Let's get one thing straight: I don't go around counting book bags on a regular basis. But how can any non-colorblind person not notice how this craze has taken off with a rapidity equal to that of (dare I make the comparison?) Kate Spade? Amid the masses of black peacoats (that's another story) on a sullen winter's day, a Herve bag sticks out like a fat kid in dodge ball.

For those readers who happen to be colorblind, or just not as hawk-eyed as myself, I'll slow down a bit.

Just what is a Herve Chapelier bag, anyway? And so what if everyone's carrying them? Herve Chapelier, pronounced Har-vay Cha-pel-i-ay (I can hardly even get the last name right) is a French brand of bags that range in size from the marche, built to basically hold the kitchen sink, to the bebe, which barely holds a credit card. Somewhere in between is the ever-popular cabas, which appears just right for holding a semester's worth of books. (I'm not making these names up. Go to www.herve-chapelier.com to see for yourself).

In any case, Herve bags all have the same basic square shape and come in various two-tone color combinations (pardon me, colour combinations), such as hot pink/summer green, pale pink/sorbet, navy/sky blue or hot red/hot pink (apparently, it's okay to mix red and pink in France). They're all made of thick, but unstructured nylon and they zip at the top. Each bag is crowned by the understated-yet-noticeable dark green label sewn into the side seam that reads "Herve Chapelier. Paris."

"A sturdy, functional nylon bag," you say. "What's wrong with that?" Absolutely nothing, I think. They appear to hold up well after being mercilessly dragged around all day (for around $100 a pop, they'd better), and nobody could ever make the argument that one of these bags is too small. And hey, we all need a dash of color on one of these gray days, right?

But still, I have to confess that something about these bags just gets under my skin, and I liken the situation to that of Coupe's on a crowded Saturday night. I've never met a person who actually likes fighting her way to the bar just for the privilege of drinking Bud from a plastic cup or having smoke blown in her face. It's just the fact that most people you know are going to be there that compels you to stand in line with your fingers crossed hoping to find a peaceful table in the corner.

So it is with Herve bags and the girls who carry them. Ever since a select few declared that forking over a week's worth of grocery money for a nylon bag was a cool thing to do, everyone else thanked their lucky stars for the Corner Meal Plan and dashed right over to Bloomies (or Scarpa, if you're a local) to follow suit. In fact, I happen to be impressed that with all these identical bags floating around Grounds, there haven't been more cases of accidental Herve mix-ups. Or then again, I suppose that once you realize you've just forked over $100 for a bag that, save for the little green tag, could have come from Wal-Mart, you're extra careful not to let it out of your sight.

Now, if you're a Herve owner and you're still with me at this point, I want you to know that I'm impressed. And, I want you to know that I'm not some embittered geek who doesn't know her Tom Ford from her Tom Cruise. In fact, a good number of my friends and acquaintances happen to be Herve owners, (provided they're still talking to me after having read this), and I'll continue to appreciate them for the people they are rather than the bags that they carry. And besides, I'm hardly immune to trends myself, although I like to think that I was ahead of the Vera Bradley it's-not-just-for-grandmothers-anymore game last spring. But still, there's no denying that the first thing I asked for after getting admitted to the University was a black peacoat.

So, even if you own a Herve bag, or if for some reason you think that I'm making all this nonsense up, next time you're around Grounds, take a quick look around to see how many you can spy with one keen glance. And if you really want to get ahead of the game, look for Herve's up-and-coming competitor: the Longchamp pliage. Like the Herve, they're made of nylon, but have a slightly more structured shape, not to mention they come in a much less radioactive-looking range of colors. And for $100, at least they throw in leather handles.