Carrie Knows How to Fake It

There are things we all quietly agree not to question.

Like how a weekly columnist could build a closet that rivals Madison Avenue. Or, how a pair of Manolos could feel like a life decision. Or… like how a Birkin… is simply real (or apparently, supposed to be).

So when Sarah Jessica Parker, who played Carrie Bradshaw, revealed in a 2022 interview that the Birkin she carried in Sex and the City wasn’t real…

This revelation divided the world into two.

And I couldn’t help but wonder: Why did a four-letter word feel like something much bigger had just been exposed?

Image Sources: Vogue, Sarah Jessica Parker interview; Sex and the City, Carrie Bradshaw with the fake Birkin

A Woman’s Right to Delulu

Carrie was never supposed to make financial sense.

This is the woman who turned A Woman’s Right to Shoes (the episode, iykyk) into a manifesto over a missing pair of $485 Manolo Blahniks… who somehow owns hundreds more. Roberto Cavalli dresses for dinner. Rare Fendi Baguettes for… well, her everyday life.

If you really looked at it, the numbers didn’t add up. But we weren’t really, REALLY looking, right?

We told ourselves she was single. That she had no children. That she chose shoes over savings, fashion over everything else. And just like that, her charming lifestyle was justified with some societal norms we would normally criticize.

It never made sense. We made it make sense. Because the fantasy worked. And because, frankly… we liked her better that way.

And that says something.

Luxury is not just an economic reality or a status marker. As consumers, we don’t only buy the product, but we buy into what it represents. The story behind it, the identity it builds, the version of ourselves we get to step into through it. We don’t just own the object. We internalize the persona. That’s why the inconsistency didn’t break the illusion.

Luxury, at its core, works like one. A collectively accepted illusion we participate in, one that helps sustain the identities we build for ourselves.

Image Source: Sex and the City still, Carrie Bradshaw

When the Illusion Talks Back

So when that Birkin turned out to be fake, a world fell apart for the people who aspire to be Carrie. It felt like the illusion had spoken back. For some, that was the problem.

Not the bag itself, but the realization that what felt like a ten year guide was, in fact, constructed and that the world they had aimed for did not exist. Once you see that, you can’t unsee it.

But there’s another layer to that discomfort. Another layer beyond THE Carrie Bradshaw.

A fake isn’t just a prop in a TV series or a harmless substitute. It’s a copy of something that carries authorship, design, labor. It borrows the outcome without carrying the process. This is a matter of authenticity. And that’s exactly why it matters.

Because what’s being replicated is not just the object, but everything behind it: the time it took to make, the people who worked on it, the decisions that shaped it. A fake means more than imitating the product. It bypasses all the hidden story and effort.

And yet, this is where the tension lies.

Because in today’s world, people seem to care less about authenticity, precisely at a time when authenticity requires more protection than ever.

Part of that comes from how we experience products now. We see the surface. The logo. The price tag. But we rarely see the process. The labor. The hours, the skill, the number of hands it takes to make something well. Mass production has flattened our perception. If everything looks like it comes out of the same system, it becomes easier to treat everything the same. But luxury was never built that way.

It depends on the idea that not everything can be replicated without losing meaning.

So the resistance wasn’t only emotional. It was also ideological.

Even when brands flirt with the concept like Gucci playing with “Fake/Not”, they never fully collapse the distinction.

Because they can’t and more importantly they shouldn’t.

Image Source: Gucci, Fake/Not Collection

Yet… Some Didn’t Mind At All

And still, not everyone was bothered. Of course it wasn’t real. It was just a prop.

For them, Carrie was about precision of a different kind like the right shoe, the right moment or the right sentence even if it is the wrong time.

Nothing collapsed. The bag didn’t make her convincing. She did. And suddenly, the fake didn’t feel like a flaw for them. It felt like part of how the world functioned.

You see it elsewhere too. A fake Fendi bag became a whole storyline in the last season of Emily in Paris, the series. “Fake” is said out loud in a designer world.

Which raises a different question: If we’re this comfortable with the illusion, where exactly do we draw the line?

Right at this moment I would like to remind you; even when a fake Fendi baguette bag became a thing in an international series, it only put the new Fendi baguette under the spotlight. …With Fendi saying “This is the real thing.”

Image Sources: Emily in Paris, fake Fendi Baguette scene; Fendi, “This is the real thing” website campaign visual

What Comes With the Bag

Yes, the Birkin reveal stirred up some muddy waters, but it was time we talked about this.

What is it that luxury actually sells? It is not the product clad in fancy Hermès leather; I think we have passed far beyond that point.

But is it the story behind how that product is crafted? Is it the other story behind it, like the one that tells how your life is going to be when you are holding that bag? Or maybe, just maybe (I’m going to hold your hand while I say this), luxury sells our willingness to believe in the illusion it creates. Yes… the bag comes with the little lock, the dust bag, and the part of you that wants it to feel real.

I guess we will never truly know. At last, one can only see what they want to believe in.