Jane Birkin and the Art of Aging Gracefully
An interview with ‘It Girl’ author Marisa Meltzer.
- Written by: Sara Black McCulloch
The bag makes the woman, but Jane Birkin made the bag. And then it took off with her name. “On my obituary,” she told Sunday Morning’s Anthony Mason, “it will say, ‘Like the bag.’”
In July, just two years after the actress and singer’s death, the Birkin prototype, stamped with her initials, broke records when it sold at auction for $10.1 million. Whether it’s the bag, its maker, or the myth, the Birkin holds value. Before she overstuffed a luxury handbag, Jane relied on a Portuguese fisherman’s basket to carry her weight. At some point, the wicker could not hold. Her partner Jacques Doillon didn’t like her signature basket. “It’s terrible for you to be known for your object,” he told her after a fight.
One of the most sought-after bags in history was designed after a chance encounter aboard a flight. As Jane Birkin tried to place her broken wicker basket into the overhead compartment, its contents—which included cigarettes and diapers—spilled out onto the lap of Jean-Louis Dumas, then artistic director of Hermès. As Jane complained to him about the handbags on the market—impractical and too small—Dumas sketched one for her on the back of an airsickness bag.
Five years after she helped design it, Birkin would dump the contents of the first-ever Birkin bag—the same one sold at auction this year—in front of Agnès Varda. “Find anything out after seeing what’s in the bag?” Birkin would say, smiling at the camera.
Marisa Meltzer, who just published a biography on Birkin, describes this as the perfect metaphor and a powerful one. “It's a way to say, okay, you know the bag, and here is the woman inside of the bag. Here is the real person,” Meltzer explains. “She was a fully formed person.”
Meltzer’s previous books have examined the ‘90s riot grrl revolution, Weight Watchers, girl bosses, and Glossier. Her newsletter, Soft Power, dives deep into the beauty industry, with weekly missives on cosmetic chemists, laser treatments, perfumes and even a “pillow to scream in.” She covers women who thrive in capitalism, brands that pretend to be your friend and then women, like Birkin, who never monetized their influence. It Girl: The Life and Legacy of Jane Birkin, comes at a time when many are interrogating the role of the It girl as a sustainable enterprise. Whether it’s a girlboss, feminist icon, influencer, or muse, each possesses an alluring je ne sais quoi that’s been bottled and sold to us time and time again. But that enterprise is now losing steam. What, Meltzer asks, is the alternative?
What Meltzer examines is the two options women seem to have when it comes to participating in culture: either become someone’s muse or brand yourself. I spoke to Meltzer the day after her book launch, about aging in the era of $100,000 facelifts, her first Sotheby’s auction, and the evolution of Jane Birkin.
Sara Black McCulloch
Marisa Meltzer
Jane Birkin was living in the shadow of her mother, her lovers, their lovers, and eventually a bag. Do you think that fashion was a way for her to distinguish herself, to subvert those expectations of her?
I think so, because fashion was always seen as coming directly from her. I think about Serge Gainsbourg, where he got so much credit for being the songwriter, composer, etc., in their relationship. And, of course, he was much older and more famous when they met, but she was really the architect of his image, because she brought the rock and roll. He didn't really have that at the time. France was still in troubadour mode. And she was a cool person coming from Swinging ‘60s London. So she definitely brought something essential, and was the one that picked out his signature shoes and told him to wear his hair a certain way. And she doesn't get credit for being so precise about how other people in her life looked. She also had such an intuitive way of dressing, where she really allowed herself to evolve as she aged, that I think a lot of people don't give themselves permission to do that, especially famous actresses. I think what dressing was for her was this self-expression, a way to show confidence that she didn't always have.
When it comes to famous women aging, they’re expected to age gracefully. And the work they get must be undetectable. We’re in the era of the $100,000 facelift, right? Jane Birkin never touched hers, but relied on fashion to maintain a sense of youthfulness. How did you view her relationship to fashion as she evolved?
I think she allowed herself to be more like a normal woman than most actors get to do. At certain points, she said I don't feel like myself necessarily, when I'm wearing a little red carpet gown or a little cocktail dress, which is completely normal for someone as they age. What's going to feel intuitive is obviously going to change. She wasn't so hung up on looking the youngest, or, you know, the most this, or the most that, which seems like a minor thing, but it was very, sort of crucial to how she viewed herself.
Was it challenging trying to unpack her effortlessness?
It was! It was also part of what was so exciting about the project that there was something beyond what we think of her, and how we define her. The reality is that everyone who seems very carefree is not. It’s much more thought out. She was very candid her whole life in interviews, which is a real gift, because think about stars now, and how they talk to the press and communicate. It's not particularly honest.
We have decades of diaries from her childhood until well into her adult years, where she's expressing her own opinions about herself, insecurities and how she thinks deeply, or about the things that she worries about. You see that she's a real person. Shocker! But I think a lot of women in her position aren't really allowed to live like that or be seen like that. They want that mystery.
Even though it’s manufactured now—there’s an entire team behind the scenes developing their look and feel.
Exactly. What it comes down to, perhaps, is that she did not fear vulnerability in the way that a lot of people do. That's something that I really took away from the book. I'm someone who is terrified of being accused by a guy of being nuts or crazy in a relationship. That's the worst thing that you could say to a woman who considers herself serious. Meanwhile, I'm thinking, Oh, don't text him three times in a row or whatever. It just seems so stupid! Jane Birkin was out there having these big emotions. She was diving in the Seine to make a point. She was having fights in the street with her lovers. And I'm not saying that that's necessarily the way that I want to behave, but in some ways, it made me feel like I had a little bit of permission to be a little bit more that way. I felt really inspired by that.
It Girl cover. Top image by Leonardo Cendamo via Getty Images
Will we ever have an icon like Jane Birkin today?
The economy of influence has changed. Once upon a time, you could just be known for having that je ne sais quoi, and being part of the scene or a girl out on the town. Now, you can point to how many followers you have, and then, you know, the it girl becomes the influencer, and then you start selling to them. And it used to be that you did a collaboration. Hailey Bieber did one with Dr. Barbara Sturm several years ago, then she became a girl boss, and started her own line. You see the same thing with Emily Weiss and Glossier. I don't blame them for that—you should get paid for your influence if you want. These people have made it their jobs, but that was never what Jane Birkin was interested in.
I think in terms of It girls, Chloë Sevigny has certainly stood the test of time. She’s 50, and remains someone that I've been interested in since she first became famous. She still dresses cool and she, like Jane Birkin, allowed her life to change. She has a kid now and a husband, but it’s not like she’s moved off to the suburbs and is doing trad wife drag or something like that. She still seems to have a very engaged life with friends and community. She’s going to things, acting in interesting movies, directing, and doing whatever she's drawn to. That draw to her remains.
What I think she and Jane would have in common is that they hate being called an It girl. It's a little demeaning. It's something you shy away from.
So many young women get inspired by the younger Jane’s style and ‘90s Chloë Sevigny. And then we grow up. How has Jane Birkin, for instance, influenced you later in life?
We all have to confront certain things about aging, in that how we want to be perceived by other people will change as we age. Jane Birkin is also an early example of what we're all having to confront right now. She was flattened so much in her life because there were just these images of her, and people didn't really know the back story. Maybe you're scrolling on Tumblr, Pinterest, Instagram or whatever mood board, and she's just a cool face, a stylish person. And as we all are increasingly online and in this visual culture, we're having to deal with how other people interpret our images and the highlight reels of our lives. And it was something that she had to understand decades before social media.
Was it difficult writing about the later parts of life, especially when she was sick?
It was really hard. And aside from the sadness of hearing about someone being sick for a long time and in pain, it was especially hard as I learned the details of her touring because it made her happy, even though she was very sick and fragile. The challenge as a writer was creating a narrative that didn't just feel like several chapters of one sad thing after another, and making sure to highlight career highs and things that made her happy and kept her alive. And even other projects she was working on, because she was working up until very close to her death. It wasn't just: she got older, she got sick, and then it was over. And so that was a challenge, but in a good way, because it is a reminder that one's life is more than a diagnosis.
Photo by Jacques Haillot Apis Sygma via Getty Images
In your author’s note, you detail what didn’t make it into the book: the research, film screenings, and visits to the Alaïa archives. You even went to the Hermès factory and watched as a Birkin was being made. How did this help you in understanding Jane Birkin’s influence on fashion? Was she championing any smaller designers too?
She definitely championed small designers in fragrance. She could have been a spokesperson, perhaps in a Lancôme or big fragrance endorsement, but instead, she did a small collaboration with the perfume house Miller Harris, that's really renowned, but small. The perfume is not for the lowest common denominator. It's kind of dusty and smells like upholstery. It's a bit odd. People either love it or hate it.
Part of my research process, because it's fun, helped recreate and set the tone. It was seeing every movie about that era because even if it didn’t end up in the book, it informed how I thought about things. What is it like to fall in love when a student revolution is going on? What other actors who are her contemporaries are getting big parts and awards that she might be jealous of? What are other designers making? Why didn't she ever wear Chanel or Dior? What are the choices she's making fashion-wise?
It seems her children have inherited these fashion relationships too. Charlotte, for instance, doesn’t wear Chanel but she wears YSL like her mother.
You do inherit those relationships. YSL is also somehow involved with the Serge Gainsbourg house. It was, I believe, left just to Charlotte. And you can buy a YSL Serge suit as a souvenir. When I was in France doing research, it was right around when the house was opening, and Charlotte Gainsbourg was on the cover of French Bazaar being interviewed [with] the designer of Saint Laurent. So you have this kind of full circle moment.
Her name took off without her after she helped design and launch the Birkin. Is that bag still overshadowing her legacy, even in death?
It has to because it is so much more famous than her. I can't imagine what it's like when your last name is kind of taken from you, and is owned by the world at this point. She also didn't have a monetary relationship with the bag. For better or for worse, she didn't get paid for it, but that wasn't what she was after. I do think it allowed her to have a more healthy relationship, or separation between who she was and what the bag was. And as much as I want everyone to get paid what they're worth, if that's not what she wanted, then it seemed like she was happier that way. I think it's nice that no one in her family seems to have any kind of rivalry. There aren't endless lawsuits. And so I have to think that she was happy with the way it played out.
Marisa Meltzer photographed by Jamie Magnifico
You were at the auction for the first Birkin. What was it like being in that room? What was it like going from researching and writing about the invention of that particular bag and then watching it sell for $10.1 million?
It was electric. I had never been to a big, fancy auction before. It was like a scene in a movie. People were gasping each time there was a new million dollar that it reached, and they were clapping. Strangers were hugging when it was over. It was very dramatic, very fun. But I also noticed that Jane Birkin’s family wasn't there. Hermès wasn't there either. And it’s because it's not their story. It doesn't belong to them any anymore. The bag belongs to someone else and it’s starting a new chapter.
Sara Black McCulloch is a writer living in Toronto. She has written for Racquet, The Walrus, and The Believer.
- Written by: Sara Black McCulloch
