Curiosities: Another piece of style nostalgia

The enduring appeal of a (mini)backpack

I was 11 years old when Clueless came out in 1995. It was a seminal fashion moment for me. I remember agonisingly choosing my outfit for the Saturday matinee. I remember which friend I went with, I remember the nearly empty cinema. I remember being overwhelmed by not just the style and costuming but the immersive world Amy Heckerling had created. The art direction is exceptional. The vernacular was exceptional The soundtrack is exceptional. By today’s standards, there are some genuinely unexpected needle drops, it’s the perfect sonic portrait of the mid-90s.

I was 32 years old when Chanel first showed the Gabrielle backpack. I coveted it immediately. The laissez-faire way of wearing it, dangling off one shoulder. It was small but still held practical weight without compromising on being cool. Chanel had made backpacks before — the early nineties Duma remains on my long-term wish list to this day — but this daintier update, with thin straps and pared-back hardware, was straight out of 1995. I desperately wanted it.

I got my first mini backpack from Smart Set just before Clueless came out. (Smart Set being the Canadian equivalent of River Island). Red plaid cloth, worn with a black long-sleeved t-shirt, blue jeans and cherry Docs to the Saturday matinee. There was an exacting way to style a mini backpack in 1995: one strap on each shoulder, worn very low down your back. And so I did. I was the embodiment of both conformity and independence, and it felt fantastic.

There’s a certain iconoclasm to being a woman who carries a backpack, mini or not. The practical value it holds, but also the swerving of expectations. A carelessness almost. A black hole to dump your valuables for the day into and hope by nightfall you’ll be able to find your keys by touch.

Chanel Gabrielle backpack

Seinfeld’s Elaine Benes carried the same backpack for years. I loved how she’d hug it while seated, or throw it into the corner as she walked into Jerry’s apartment. As a fellow boy’s girl, she’s stylish and she cares about how she presents herself but she isn’t precious about it. So Elaine influenced me to return to backpacks in the mid-2010s, after my Mulberry Alexa satchel phase had run its course. A medium-sized black pebble leather backpack from Whistles, worn with two straps on the same shoulder. Minimal gold hardware. That was my Elaine Benes bag. I used it daily for a good four years. Until Khaite bags came along.

There is a through-line between Elaine Benes and Khaite: strong tailoring and power silhouettes, nineties cuts, pared-back minimalism, strength with a romantic softness. I bought two Khaite Iris bags in 2021, one brown leather, one black, as soon as they came out. The apotheosis of the perfect work bag for my context: a north-south silhouette you could hold discreetly on the Tube without pestering other passengers, perfectly sized for my public sector 11” laptop. They’re cool, effortless, minimal and comfortable. Elaine Benes, but for me in my late thirties. Two thin straps worn on the same shoulder.

The Gabrielle mini backpack never left my wish list. My 11yr old self wouldn’t allow it. Chanel still makes the bag, and the pre-loved market is well-stocked with options though prices swing quite dramatically every six months. Black leather versions currently list around £4,000, though I suspect Blazy mania has prompted sellers to lower their prices given it’s not currently in his roster. His style codes almost telegraph its return. No matter, I found a really good condition version at the end of 2025 at an unbeatable price for the Chanel pre-loved market. Could anyone say no to a very good condition Chanel bag for under £1,200?

And in contrast to last week’s argument about beautiful, pragmatic, investible bags, this daintier backpack actually earns its place just as honestly: practical for hands-free errands around town, easy for low-key evenings out, charming for working lunches. I needn’t be precious with it. The iconoclasm I felt at 11 and again in my 30s — the sense that a backpack said something particular about a woman, something a little careless, a little confident, a little unbothered still rings true. The collision of two strongly held references from childhood, still bearing joy and practical value thirty years on. That’s not nostalgia. That’s self-knowledge. That’s identity.

Tova Turkel wearing: Chanel Gabrielle packback; Celine blazer; Khaite jeans; Chanel ballet flats