It may scream hypebeast to some, but for me, wearing Gucci is about so much more than flex.
My late grandmother, Joy, loved Gucci, especially the handbags, which she collected and prized above all else in her wardrobe. If you really know Gucci, you’re probably aware of the Gucci Accessory Collection’s ubiquity in the 80s and 90s. And if you know Detroit, you know you could find the Gucci Accessory Collection bags at Jacobson’s and Hudson’s, the long-gone department stores where my grandmother bought many of hers. The Gucci Accessory Collection was somewhat of a diffusion line for the luxury brand and the more affordable price point allowed my grandmother to start her collection, which eventually grew into pricier bags. She cherished them all.
My grandmother inspired my love of purses when I was a kid. “Got your purse?” she’d ask before we headed out the door on our way to the TCBY in Grosse Pointe or to the Hudson’s at Eastland Mall. She would comically draw out the word purse so it sounded more like puhhhse. It never failed to reduce us both to giggles. On the days we stayed home, I often entertained myself by riffling through her closet, admiring her clothes, hats, and bags. I loved slinging one of Grandmother’s Guccis over my shoulder and pretending it was mine.
I credit my grandmother with teaching me the value of quality clothing and bags and how to take care of the items I am fortunate enough to acquire. Her Gucci collection — vintage now— still looked brand new when she died. My grandmother was a stylish woman who believed in treating herself to nice things. What can I say? I learned from a...G!
Once I realized this pandemic wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon, I started my maskdrobe. (I mean, I’m not one to miss a sartorial opportunity!) This Gucci mask is my favorite because I had it custom made from the dustcover of one of my grandmother’s bags. Even though it left the bag without its original protective sheath, I think she would approve of my repurposing.
When my grandmother became a great-grandmother, she elected to be called GiGi. It’s a moniker adopted by lots of great-grandmothers, sure, but I choose to believe it was a subconscious nod to her affinity for the double Gs in her closet. GG will always stand for Grandmother’s Gucci to me.
