#louis vuitton duffel bag

[motliez]

Instagram: @Motliez

[sofiasluxuryfinds]

L*V duffel bags 🤎

http://sale.dhgate.com/B7WcEK04

[hoe4hotchner]

Hiii!! Could you do another non bau rich fem!reader where she gave Aaron lots of designer stuff and he starts wearing them to work? Like maybe ties, cuff links, and like an LV duffel bag and the team is just like “??? Woah dude where’d you get that??”

Subtle flex | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x rich fem!reader| WC: 0.9k | CW: nothing

Aaron Hotchner was usually not one for excess. His wardrobe was practical and professional, his tastes minimalistic, and his life, outside of Jack, revolved around efficiency and exuding authority on the job. Sure he had splurged occasionally on a stray high-quality tie here and there as well as his Rolex watch. At least that was until you entered his life.  

The first gift was a tie — a deep navy one in silk with subtle pinstripes. It came in a sleek wrapped box with some designer brand he had never even heard of before. You’d handed it to him with a casual smile, brushing off his initial protests with a light, “Aaron, I saw it and thought of you. Let me spoil you for once.”  

He wore it the next day, paired with his standard black suit, and noticed how it caught the light in the mirror. “Looks good,” he muttered to himself, brushing his hand over it. As hesitant as he had been to accept it, he was thankful for the present and happy that you'd chosen one that wasn't smothered in logos or brand names.

Then came the cuff links. They were sterling silver and engraved with his initials. He opened the box late one evening after you handed it to him over dinner. “You didn’t have to,” he said softly, though his smile betrayed how much he loved them.  

“Of course, I didn’t have to,” you replied, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “But you deserve nice things, Aaron. You do so much good without even expecting a thanks.”  

And so it continued. A Louis Vuitton duffel bag for his work trips, a black leather wallet that somehow managed to look even more professional than the one he’d carried for years, and a collection of even more ties that were understated yet undeniably luxurious and seemed to multiply in his closet every so often.  

At first, he rotated the items slowly into his everyday wardrobe, unsure if they would draw attention. But one particularly chaotic morning, he grabbed the LV duffel, clipped on the cuff links, and shrugged into a jacket before heading into the office having gotten an urgent notification for a case.  

It didn’t take long for the team to notice.  

“Uh… Hotch?” Morgan’s voice cut through the usual buzz in the conference room as Hotch entered. “Is that a Louis Vuitton bag you’re carrying?”  

Hotch glanced at him briefly, setting the duffel down by the door before striding towards the front of the room to grab the file Garcia was holding outstretched for him. “Yes. Why?”  

Morgan blinked. “Why? Man, you’ve been holding out on us. Since when do you roll up looking like you just stepped out of GQ Magazine?”  

Emily leaned back in her chair, eyebrows raised. “Is that a new tie, too? That’s at least Tom Ford.”  

Hotch adjusted his tie instinctively. “It’s not. It’s Brioni.”  

“Oh, excuse us,” JJ chimed in throwing her hands up and exchanging an amused glance with Emily.  

“I’m sorry,” Spencer Reid piped up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Are those cuff links monogrammed?”  

“Okay, seriously,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “What’s going on, Hotch? You win the lottery or something? Cause if your salary is high enough for those purchases Imma have to talk to Strauss about a raise.”  

Hotch, shrugged lightly as he opened his case file. “No. My girlfriend has… a habit of giving gifts.”  

The room fell silent for a beat before Emily’s jaw dropped. “Wait, girlfriend? You’ve been holding out on us in more ways than one!”

"Who is she I need details," Garcia cut into the conversation, her excitement starting to bubble over.

JJ smirked. “Are you telling me she just gives you designer gifts casually? I agree with Garcia, who is this woman?”  

Hotch allowed himself the smallest of smiles as he glanced up from his paperwork. “Someone who insists I deserve the finer things.”  

“Damn,” Morgan muttered, shaking his head. “Where can I find one of those?”  

“Maybe start with charm school,” Emily teased.  

As the team bantered, Hotch’s phone buzzed on his desk. A message from you:  

Miss you already. Hope you’re putting the cuff links to good use. Dinner at my place when you get back?

He smiled quickly at his phone before typing back a quick reply.  

Always. I’ll bring the wine.  

When he looked up, the team was staring at him, curious. “What?” he asked, his tone amused, knowing fully well that they wouldn't stop bothering him about you until he eventually agreed to let them meet you.  

“Nothing,” Emily said, though her grin suggested otherwise. “Just trying to imagine Aaron Hotchner in love with a rich fashionista.”  

“Not just a fashionista,” Morgan added, gesturing toward the duffel. “An angel sent from the heavens, apparently.”  

Hotch shook his head, lifting his file up in the air in a quick and smooth motion as if to remind them why they were there. “Focus, everyone. We have a case.”  

A few days later, when you saw Aaron again, he mentioned the team’s reaction with a mix of exasperation and amusement.  

“I think they’re more interested in my wardrobe than the case,” he said, loosening his tie as he sat beside you on the couch.  

You laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Let them wonder. They’ll get used to it eventually.”  

“I’m not sure they ever will,” he muttered, leaning into your touch.  

“Good,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him. “I like keeping them on their toes.”  

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Pieces of Her - Chapter One

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

(I know... I know, I should NOT be starting another story but, this idea just won't leave my mind)

“Fuck baby” Jon moaned out, as he gripped Kenya’s hips. Kenya threw her head back in pleasure and she started bouncing on his dick. “Shit” he dragged out.  “Just like that.” Jon's fingers dug into the curve of Kenya’s waist, pulling her closer to him with every bounce. She leaned forward, kissing him deeply, their tongues entwining in a heated exchange. 

“You boutta cum for me, Daddy?” Kenya whispered against his lips and Jon nodded, his hips bucking up to meet her every thrust. Kenya leaned down so that their chests were pressed against each other. The sound of her ass slapping against his thighs triggered his orgasm. 

“Shit! I’m boutta nut!” Hearing him say that made her start to bounce on his dick harder and faster. 

“Go ‘head Daddy, nut in your pussy.” 

“Fuck!” He moaned out, closing his eyes in ecstasy  as her walls tightened around him 

“Trin..” He moaned out and both he and Kenya froze. 

‘Bitch, did you just…” She trailed off, moving off of him and rushing into the bathroom to clean herself up. Jon winced when she slammed the bathroom door shut. 

“Baby! I’m sorry man, I-I” He stuttered trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he said his ex-girlfriend's name as he came inside of his current fiance. He groaned and got off the bed, pulling his briefs back on, and walked over to the bathroom door, frowning when he found it locked. 

“Kenya, I’m sorry. Open the door please.” He jumped as the bathroom door opened and Kenya walked out, now dressed in her pink Louis Vuitton robe. 

“Move out my way.” She said glaring at him. Jon watched with wide eyes as she walked into their closet and came back out with her duffel bag and dressed in a grey hoodie and black leggings. 

“No baby, wait lemme -“ Jon wrapped one of his hands around her forearm trying to stop her but Kenya snatched her arm out of his grasp. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She said, looking at him in disgust. “I knew something was up when y’all followed each other back on Instagram. You got me fucked up Fatu.” She said, throwing clothes and some essentials in her duffle bag. 

“No, just let me explain.” Jon tried to grab her arm again but the glare she sent his way stopped him. 

“ I knew this was too good to be true.” Kenya started, motioning her hand between the two of them. “I heard the way your mom and brothers talked about our relationship. How shocked they were when you told them you proposed. You’re mom couldn’t even pretend to be happy Jonathan.” 

Jon felt his heart sink as Kenya's words hit him. He knew she was right. His family had been skeptical of their relationship from the start, always comparing Kenya to Trinity.

Since his mom had met Kenya, she would always try to compare the two. And she would point out all of Kenya's flaws. 

 “Trinity always made sure his clothes were clean before he went on the road.” 

“Trinity always had a warm meal ready for Jon” 

“Trinity was used to life on the road… How are you going to cope with him being gone most of the time?” 

“I was never gonna be good enough, no matter how hard I tried. We we never going to last”  Jon watched helplessly as Kenya finished packing up what she could. She zipped the bag up and placed it on her shoulder. “I’ll try to come back for the rest of my stuff.” 

“Kenya.. Please.” He whispered, his voice cracking as he watched her with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go.”  

Kenya scoffed quietly as she made it to their his bedroom door. “Do you know what hurts the most? I always knew that you weren’t over her, like in the back of my mind I knew, but when she left the company I just… I dunno I was hoping you would get over her, but I guess that was silly of me to assume.” 

“Baby... I-I am over her.”

Kenya scoffed again as she noticed his slight hesitation. She let out a sad sigh as she looked around the room she had decorated for their anniversary. Kenya's eyes lingered on the photos she had taped to the strings, their smiling faces mocked her now, a painful reminder of what she thought they had. She blinked back tears and turned her gaze back to him. 

“You’re not and I can’t keep pretending that you are.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her tears now falling freely down her cheeks. “I deserve better than to be someone’s second choice.” 

She opened the door and walked out of the room, she heard Jon’s footsteps close behind her. “I love you!” He called out after her. “I don’t know why I said her name! I haven’t talked to her in months! I swear baby, It didn’t mean anything!” 

Kenya stopped walking and whirled around to face Jon. “How could you say that? What if I moaned out my ex’s name while you were inside me huh? Would you just be okay with it?” 

Jon fell silent, unable to answer. He knew he'd be devastated if the roles were reversed. Kenya shook her head, disappointed but not surprised by his lack of response.

“Exactly.” She said as she shook her head and opened the front door, walking out and towards her car. She unlocked the doors with the fob and threw her bag into the backseat. She hurriedly hopped into the driver's seat as she noticed Jon rushing towards her, still only dressed in his briefs. 

“Kenya, Please. I’m fucking begging. Just come back inside so we can talk.” Jon said, pulling on the door handle but she had locked it. Kenya stared straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as Jon pleaded outside her window. She couldn't bear to look at him, knowing if she did, her resolve might crumble. With a deep breath, she started the engine. “No! Kenya!” Jon called out hitting his hand against the window as she pulled off from in front of their home. 

Kenya had wound up driving to her studio and sleeping on the couch there. She woke up the next morning to about 50 missed phone calls from Jon and about 20 from his twin brother Josh. 

Josh Fatu: Sis, can u jus let me know you safe. Bro in here spazzing out cause u turned ur location off. 

To Josh Fatu: I’m okay 

Just as she sat up and stretched her phone started ringing. Kenya sighed as Jon’s contact stared back at her. She waited for it to stop ringing before unlocking her phone and blocking his number. She let out a deep sigh as she pushed herself off the couch, walked into the kitchen area and started a pot of coffee. 

She was in deep thought as she leaned against the counter, absentmindedly stroking the engagement ring she was still wearing. Kenya's fingers lingered on the diamond ring, memories flooding her mind. The day Jon proposed, the way his eyes lit up when she said yes, the plans they'd made for their future together. It all felt like a distant dream now. 

Its been about a month since she’s last talked to Jon. Even though he was blocked from her phone he had shown up to the studio multiple times to try to get her to talk to him, she just couldn’t she was embarrassed. She had bever had a guy moan out another girls name while she was with them. 

“Yo shawty, you good?” Kenya broke out of her daydream and look up from the soundboard. 

Brent well Christopher was staring back at her, holding the joint out to her to which she politely declined. 

“Yeah sorry, just thinking.” She said as she cleared her throat. “You ready.” 

He took anothe rhit of the joint before setting it aside. “Whenever you are.”  

Kenya took a deep breath and nodded before standing up and walking into the booth. She normally let other artist perform her lyrics but this one was personal.. She needed to be the one on the tract. 

Brent gave her a thumbs up and Kenya closed her eyes as the music begans to flow from the headphones, she took a deep breath before her voice filled the studio as she began to sing. 

🎶Go figure You were the trigger You brought me to an obstructed view When you knew the picture was bigger Who am I kiddin'? Knew from the beginnin' You'd ruin everything, you do it every time You are my enemy, you are no friend of mine, muhfucker, uh 🎵

BrentFaiyaz

liked by JustKenya, and 514,700 others

BrentFaiyaz: thank you @JustKenya for trusting me 🎼

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chrisbrownofficial: oh shit! we getting new music!

hermusicofficial: she's finally getting in the booth! Time to show the world your talent baby girl ❤️

JustKenya: ❤️❤️

Authors Note: WHY DO I WRITE JON AS THIS PIECE OF SHIT OMG!! but here's my new story! (well one of them.) Tell me what y'all think! 😬

(edit, sorry.. this is the song Kenya "wrote")

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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[starset21]

Two Worlds, One Summer

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may currently be found is on tumblr and Ao3. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships.

Summery: Separated at birth twins Juliette Leclerc and Amélie Verstappen meet for the first time at camp, after practically becoming rivals they are forced together in an attempt to get them to get along.

This is part 1. Looking for the other parts? Double Trouble Masterlist 

The afternoon sun cast golden streaks across the Leclerc penthouse, overlooking the Monaco harbor. Below, yachts glided through the water, their white sails catching the breeze. Inside, 13 year old Juliette Leclerc carefully folded the last of her designer dresses into her Louis Vuitton suitcase. Her mother’s atelier had been buzzing with energy all morning—models coming in for final fittings, seamstresses adjusting gowns, and stylists prepping for an upcoming bridal fashion show. 

Despite the chaos, Y/n Leclerc remained calm, effortlessly directing her team like a queen ruling her empire. Juliette admired her mother for that. She was graceful, composed, and impossibly elegant, qualities Juliette had spent her life trying to embody. Still, as she zipped up her suitcase, a small frown formed on her lips. “Maman, are you sure about this?” she asked hesitantly. “I don’t see why I have to spend the summer at camp. I could stay here and help with the wedding collections. Or assist you at Paris Fashion Week.” 

Y/n, sipping green tea from a delicate porcelain cup, gave her daughter a knowing smile. “Ma chérie, you need to do more than just ride horses and come back to sketch designs in my studio all summer,” she said, stepping toward Juliette and tucking a loose strand of her daughter’s long blonde hair behind her ear. “You should be having fun. Making friends.”

“I have friends,” Juliette muttered. Her mother’s gaze softened. “You have acquaintances. When was the last time you spent time with someone your age, outside of a fitting or lessons?” Juliette didn’t have an answer to that. “I promise, it won’t be so bad,” she reassured her. 

The family’s butler, Louis, appeared in the doorway, a silver tray in hand. He was dressed immaculately, as always, in a pressed suit despite the heat. “I took the liberty of packing some extra essentials, Mademoiselle Juliette,” Louis said as he set a neatly wrapped package onto her suitcase. “You’ll need proper skin care after lake adventures and long days in the sun.” Juliette sighed. “Of course. I should have known.” 

Louis gave her a pointed look. “Your mother may have insisted on this trip, but I insist that you keep your standards intact.” Juliette tried not to smile. If anyone could make sure her life remained orderly, even from afar, it was Louis. Still, as she looked around the penthouse, at the high ceilings and racks of designer gowns, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong at some outdoor adventure camp. This was going to be a disaster.

Rain splattered against the garage doors of the Verstappen estate, a sleek, modern home nestled just outside of Amsterdam. The faint scent of burnt rubber still lingered in the air from the morning’s karting session. Inside, 13 year old Amélie Verstappen was sprawled across her bed, absentmindedly tossing a baseball into the air. Her duffel bag sat half-packed on the floor, a mess of hoodies, sneakers, and a few stray racing gloves. Across the room, Maria, the family’s longtime nanny and housekeeper, stood with her arms crossed, watching Amélie’s lack of effort with a disapproving look. 

“I don’t understand why I have to go to this stupid camp,” Amélie grumbled, catching the baseball and hurling it toward a stack of magazines. It knocked over a framed photo of her and her father at a race track. Maria picked it up with a sigh. “Because your father wants you to have a normal summer. One that doesn’t involve engines and exhaust fumes.” Amélie scoffed. “I like engines and exhaust fumes.” Maria sat down at the edge of the bed. “I know, querida. But you also need to know how to have fun outside of racing.” 

Amélie groaned dramatically. “Karting is fun.” Maria gave her a pointed look. “When was the last time you did something that wasn’t karting?” Amélie hesitated. “…Last week?” Maria shook her head. “Testing at Red Bull’s junior program does not count.” Amélie flopped back onto the bed, groaning. “Fine.” 

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made Amélie sit up. Moments later, Max Verstappen entered, dressed in his usual Red Bull hoodie and jeans, looking slightly exhausted but happy to be home. “Papa!” Amélie perked up, hopping off the bed and running to give him a hug. “Hey, mijn meisje,” Max greeted, ruffling her already-messy hair. “All packed for camp?” Amélie crossed her arms. “I don’t wanna go.” Max sighed. “I know. But trust me, it’ll be good for you. And if you really hate it, you can come home early.” 

Amélie perked up. “Really?” Maria shot Max a look. He winced. “Uh—well, let’s see how it goes first.” Amélie smirked. “I’m taking that as a yes.” Max laughed, shaking his head. “Just… try to behave, alright?” he asks. “No promises,” Amélie said cheekily, grabbing her duffel bag. Max sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.” As Amélie headed out, Max turned to Maria. “She’s going to be a nightmare for them, isn’t she?” Maria smirked. “Oh, absolutely.”

The sun shone brightly over Camp Star, nestled in the rolling French countryside. The estate was enormous, complete with horseback trails, pristine tennis courts, a sparkling lake, and even an exclusive sailing program. For Juliette Leclerc, it was the kind of place she was used to—an elite summer camp for Europe’s wealthiest families. For Amélie Verstappen, it looked like a prison sentence. She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, stepping onto the gravel path leading toward the main lodge. The other campers around her rolled in with sleek designer luggage, their parents lingering to give them polite kisses on the cheek. Amélie rolled her eyes. Fancy Rich kids and their weird fancy goodbyes. Then she spotted Juliette. 

She wasn’t sure why, but something about her instantly got under her skin. Maybe it was her perfectly styled hair, or her designer handbag, or the way she carried herself like she owned the place. Juliette, meanwhile, noticed Amélie at the same time. The girl’s messy ponytail, scuffed-up sneakers, and untucked camp T-shirt practically screamed unpolished—and the way she was staring at Juliette made her feel uneasy. There was something strangely familiar about her. Juliette dismissed the thought, giving Amélie a polite yet dismissive glance before walking away. That was all it took for Amélie to decide that she hated her.

It didn’t take long for dislike to turn into an all-out war.

Example #1: The Door Incident

At lunch on the first day, Juliette was walking gracefully into the dining hall when Amélie “accidentally” cut in front of her, letting the door swing right into her face. “Oh no, did I do that?” Amélie said with a smirk, not even bothering to hide her amusement. Juliette, rubbing her nose, gently smoothed down her dress and forced a smile. “I’m sure it was just a lack of manners.”

“Oops,” Amélie said, shrugging.

Example #2: The Shampoo Disaster

Juliette decided to get even for all of Amélie’s passive aggressive quips and rude actions. She swapped Amélie’s shampoo with blue dye. The next morning, when Amélie walked into breakfast, her hair was streaked with blue. The entire dining hall erupted into laughter. Amélie, furious, stomped straight up to Juliette’s table. “Hope you like it,” Juliette said sweetly, sipping her tea. Amélie grabbed Juliette’s perfectly arranged breakfast tray and flipped it over, spilling tea and fruit all over her white blouse. Juliette gasped. “You savage!” Amélie grinned. “Oops. Must’ve slipped.”

Example #3: The Bed Switch

That night, Amélie moved Juliette’s mattress outside onto the porch while she was in the showers. Juliette returned, exhausted, and flopped onto what she thought was her bed—only to fall straight onto the wooden floor. A few campers peeked out of their rooms, snickering. Amélie, lying comfortably in her own bed, called out, “Sweet dreams, Princess!”

Example #4: The Canoe Disaster

The next day, during water sports, Juliette got her revenge. The camp required everyone to pair up in a canoe for the lake challenge. Of course, Juliette strategically switched out Amélie’s oars for a mismatched pair, making sure she could barely row straight. By the time Amélie realized what was happening, her canoe had drifted completely off course, sending her straight into a cluster of reeds while Juliette rowed past effortlessly. As Juliette sailed by, she smiled. “Having trouble?” Amélie gritted her teeth. “I hate you.”

Example #5: The last straw

The camp’s Annual Go-Kart Race was supposed to be a friendly event. For Amélie, it was personal. Finally—something she could actually win. The other kids barely stood a chance. She knew how to handle a kart better than most people could drive a car. She dominated the track, weaving through turns with flawless precision. Juliette, meanwhile, wasn’t bad—but she was more strategic than aggressive. With only a few laps left, Amélie was leading. Juliette, in second place, narrowed her eyes. She didn’t need to win—she just needed to make sure Amélie didn’t. As they approached the final corner, Juliette did something… reckless.

She nudged Amélie’s rear tire just enough to send her spinning out of control—straight into a hay bale. The crowd gasped. Dust swirled in the air as Amélie pulled off her helmet, her hazel green eyes blazing with fury. Juliette pulled up beside her, smirking. “Oh dear. Did I do that?” Amélie was about to throw her helmet at Juliette’s head— 

Until Madame Fournier stormed onto the track. “That is enough!” she snapped. “Since you two can not seem to behave, you are now roommates. Effective immediately.” The entire camp erupted in whispers. Juliette’s jaw dropped. Amélie stared in horror. “Non,” Juliette said weakly. “You can’t be serious.” Amélie groaned. “I’d rather sleep in a ditch.” Madame Fournier crossed her arms. “That can be arranged.”

[definegodliness]

Airily

Dare we — and with All the weighted luggage of existing, Encumbering; dropped at First glance — dance again?

You've got your Louis-Vuittonful, and I've got my army-dump duffel bag Filled with things that, empty, clatter Annoyingly, but will survive life's oxygen fires When utilisation is All That matters.

It's a damned bag, Already left On that rugged road toward oblivion When I think of your hands wrapped Around my shoulders While my fingertips latch onto your waist As if reality could collapse Were it not for us Connecting.

With an unechoing clamour, I leave this tin Of all my vices, virtues, blessings, and sins; That I may dance with you Naked, again.

As if we never had a pebble in our shoe.

As if we never moved Discomforted.

Skinless.

Air.

--- 28-8-2024, M.A. Tempels ©

[fashionbooksmilano]

The handbag

to have and to hold

Carmel Allen

Carlton Books, London 1999, 144 pages, 21,6x21,8cm, hardcove, ISBN 9781 858 688 138

euro 40,00

An indispensable accessory as well as a key fashion statement, the handbag is portable boudoir, office, bank and emergency kit for women everywhere. With chapters on the history of the handbag, a Who's Who of style-shapers, a look at the contents women carry and an A-Z of international designers and brands, this book is the ultimate style guide for all handbag lovers. This newly updated book now includes include the 'it' bags of the twenty-first century, those on the arms of every celebrity about town and on every fashionista's wish list such as the Fendi B, Marc Jacob's Stam and Dior's Gaucho. From the classics - the Chanel quilted bag, the Hermes' Kelly, Gucci's bamboo-handled, snaffle designs and Louis Vuitton's Monogram - to artistic creations from Judith Leiber, Jamin Puech and Alexander McQueen, and celebrity favourites Marc Jacobs, Alexander Wang, Anya Hidmarch, Marc Jacobs and Balenciaga, the A-Z section profiles the most coveted and iconic designs ever. Discover, too, what your handbag says about your character and check the style dictionary to find out the varied range available and which one suits your personality - the tote, backpack, clutch, drawstring, duffel, Kelly, envelope, shoulder, minaudiere, and more. With useful hints and tips on how to accessorize and over 200 colour photos, "The Handbag" is a truly indispensable, inspirational book for the many women for whom the bag is the accessory.

26/11/24

[kardashiannwannabe]

Love Kim’s cherry louis vuitton duffel bag

[angeldreaming3]

IG: @ victoria.sallaberry

☆ moon boots

☆ kitten heels

☆ burberry perfume

☆ prada lip balm

☆ louis vuitton duffel bag

☆ h&m hair bow

[motliez]

Instagram: @Motliez

[thefauxsport]

How do I begin to describe Nicholas John Bosa?

Nick Bosa is flawless.

He has two Louis Vuitton duffel bags and a silver Pea car.

I heard his penile reduction surgery cost $10,000.

I hear he does yacht commercials... in Sardinia.

His favorite movie is Porky's.

One time, he stayed at Mar-A-Lago and clogged all the toilets.

One time, his mom cut in front of me in the line for the restroom. It was ... DEVASTATING!

Were you wearing a snowsuit and peed yourself?

[mkt100martim]

Part 1: Louis Vuitton

I chose Louis Vuitton as my brand because I research it extensively and have always desired to own one of its items. Louis Vuitton was established in 1854 and began its journey by crafting high-quality, flat-topped trunks that revolutionized travel luggage. Growing up, I often heard about Louis Vuitton and saw some of its products, but I never truly explored the brand until I started my research and discovered the wide variety of offerings. For example, their bags, including backpacks and duffel bags, stood out to me because their sleek and professional design captured my attention. This deepened my appreciation for Louis Vuitton and prompted me to delve deeper into the brand, as I learned they use luxurious materials like leather, canvas, and exotic skins, which reassured me that any purchase I made would be long-lasting.

[kroseposh]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Louis Vuitton Monogram Keepall Bandoulière 45 Duffel Bag.

[giftideasfromaycaramba]

Vintage Speedy

[mylavishlife]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Louis Vuitton Cruiser Monogram 40 Brown CanvasTravel Bag.

[vintageleather24]

The Role of Vintage Leather Travel Bags in Fashion History

Introduction

Vintage leather travel bags hold a significant place in the annals of fashion history, serving as timeless icons of style, sophistication, and adventure. From their humble beginnings as utilitarian accessories to their elevation as coveted fashion statements, these iconic bags have played a pivotal role in shaping trends and influencing the way we travel in style. In this article, we explore the rich history of vintage leather travel bags and their enduring impact on the world of fashion.

1. Origins and Evolution

Explore Vintage Leather's Travel Bag Collection can be traced back centuries, to a time when travel was a luxury reserved for the elite. Early iterations of travel bags were simple and functional, designed to withstand the rigors of long journeys by land, sea, or air. Over time, as travel became more accessible to the masses, the design and construction of travel bags evolved to reflect changing tastes and trends. From the sleek lines of Art Deco-inspired luggage to the bohemian charm of hippie-era duffel bags, vintage leather travel bags have adapted to the shifting landscape of fashion while retaining their timeless appeal.

2. Icons of Elegance

Throughout history, vintage leather travel bags have been associated with elegance, luxury, and sophistication. From the opulent steamer trunks of the Victorian era to the sleek briefcases of the Mad Men era, these iconic accessories have been favored by discerning travelers and fashion enthusiasts alike. Whether carried by Hollywood starlets on glamorous getaways or business moguls on corporate retreats, vintage leather bags exude an air of refinement and status that transcends time and trends.

3. Cultural Significance

Vintage leather travel bags have also played a significant role in shaping cultural identity and expression. In the mid-20th century, iconic brands such as Louis Vuitton and Gucci revolutionized the world of travel with their innovative designs and luxury craftsmanship. These iconic bags became status symbols for jet-setters and socialites, signaling wealth, taste, and sophistication. From the iconic monogram canvas of Louis Vuitton to the horsebit detailing of Gucci, vintage leather bags have become synonymous with luxury and prestige, cementing their place in the fashion lexicon.

4. Enduring Appeal

Despite the ever-changing landscape of fashion, vintage leather travel bags continue to captivate and inspire designers, collectors, and travelers around the world. Their timeless appeal lies in their impeccable craftsmanship, classic design, and ability to evoke a sense of nostalgia and adventure. Whether styled with contemporary outfits or cherished as heirlooms, vintage leather bags remain as relevant and coveted today as they were decades ago, serving as enduring symbols of elegance and style.

5. Sustainability and Ethical Fashion

In an age of increasing environmental awareness, vintage leather travel bags offer a sustainable and ethical fashion choice for conscious consumers. By repurposing and reusing existing pieces, vintage leather bags help reduce the demand for new materials and minimize waste. Choosing vintage leather over newly manufactured alternatives also promotes ethical practices and supports artisanal craftsmanship, preserving cultural heritage and promoting fair labor practices in the fashion industry.

Conclusion

Vintage leather travel bags hold a cherished place in the history of fashion, serving as timeless icons of elegance, sophistication, and adventure. From their origins as utilitarian accessories to their elevation as coveted fashion statements, these iconic bags have shaped trends, influenced cultural identity, and inspired generations of travelers and fashion enthusiasts. With their enduring appeal and timeless charm, vintage leather travel bags continue to captivate and inspire, reminding us of the enduring allure of travel and the enduring legacy of fashion.