Writteny by Nicole Štěch

It was years ago that I became fixated on the idea that I absolutely needed a handbag from a brand everyone knows, but in a silhouette almost no one recognizes. For a long time, I searched resale platforms for one that would meet my criteria. And deep in the archives of Fendi, I found it. I sifted through a sea of Baguette, Mama, and Spy silhouettes until, at a truly laughable price, I discovered a real pearl: the Oyster Bag.

Disclaimer: for most of its existence, the Oyster has been – and most likely will continue to be – overlooked. Perhaps rightly so. The average consumer probably won’t see a pearl in it. It bears no prominent logo. Its craftsmanship often flirts with kitsch. It has no pop-cultural moment behind it that might resonate with consumers. Unlike the Italian fashion house’s cult silhouettes, the Oyster Bag has not retained its value. Its price fluctuates somewhere between the low hundreds of euros and four-figure sums for rarer models, but it will never be an aspirational item in the way the Baguette is. Even if Carrie Bradshaw had fallen in love with the Oyster instead of the Baguette, it likely wouldn’t be particularly sought-after on resale platforms today. What it lacks is a retail market that would push its price upward as creative directors unveil new iterations and place them on boutique shelves. And yet, the Fendi Oyster is nowhere to be found in current collections. At the time of its launch, however, it was a genuine hit, Liana Satenstein, author of the newsletter Neverworns, notes in her article We’ll Never See a Fendi Oyster Bag Again that American critic Cathy Horyn wrote in The New York Times at the time of the bag’s debut that Fendi sold 21,000 Oyster bags, a significant success in 2002.

The contemporary fashion industry is not prepared to produce such highly specific objects. As a result, the Oyster remains a preserved reminder of a bygone era when craftsmanship and individuality went hand in hand in fashion. Much like the many incarnations of Yves Saint Laurent’s Mombasa bags, known for their eclectic designs, the Oyster is today almost impossible to reproduce. The bag introduced by Silvia Venturini Fendi in the Fall-Winter 2002 collection appeared in countless variations: with perforated ornaments, embroidered with yarn or leather cords, adorned with beads in iridescent patterns, or even finished with fur, tufts of animal hair, or brass components. At the time, there was an Oyster for everyone. There were also relatively plain versions in black or white leather, or ones bearing the iconic Fendi Zucca monogram. And my favorite: an Oyster covered in wooden tiles stitched onto an animal-print base, resembling a piece of furniture more than a handbag. The Oyster was a little boho, a little elegant, just luxurious enough, and undeniably distinctive. And without a doubt, strange in every single way.

In her article We’ll Never See a Fendi Oyster Bag Again, Liana Satenstein further recounts the story behind the creation of the Oyster. Cathy Horyn also mentioned an anecdote in her New York Times article involving artistic director Silvia Venturini Fendi, Miuccia Prada’s husband Patrizio Bertelli – who held a stake in Fendi at the time – and a bathroom. “She (Silvia Venturini Fendi, ed.) and her team were working on the design during the period when Mr. Bertelli was a co-owner of Fendi. Fearing that the bag’s design might make its way to Prada, she kept it secret from him until the day of the show. ‘We hid it in a box in the bathroom,’ she said.” More than any other accessory from the Italian fashion house, the Oyster thus became a kind of painter’s canvas on which Silvia Venturini Fendi expressed her most bizarre desires for what a handbag of its time could look like. At a moment when fashion houses are pushing to cut costs and the production of luxury goods, still nominally within reach of the average consumer, is being simplified as much as possible, consumers themselves are, to some extent, less hungry for individuality than for what everyone else is carrying. In such a social climate, the extravagant Oyster – so demanding in terms of craftsmanship – could no longer come into being.

An oyster. The very creature alone inspires disgust in some and desire in others. In itself, it is strange, yet it has always been considered a sought-after delicacy. To a certain extent, it is a symbol of abundance, an aspirational and status-laden object, and from a biological standpoint, a powerful aphrodisiac. Choose your fighter. In its case, I lean toward a different message. The world is your oyster – a phrase that suggests one’s possibilities are open and that it is up to each of us to take from life what we want. Addison Rae echoes this sentiment in her pop song: “the world is my oyster baby, come touch the pearl, the world is my oyster, and I’m the only girl…” And so, for me, owning a Fendi Oyster is not only about possessing a somewhat unconventional artifact from the history of the Italian fashion house, but also a reminder that I am the architect of my own destiny. Forgive a naive woman who sees in all of this a metaphor for personal freedom – and the universe’s favor!