Men's Bags Are Getting An Upgrade

What’s in the bag? Status, identity, and a new cultural cool

The rise of men’s power bags is more than just a trend; it's a cultural reset. From skateparks to catwalks, NBA tunnels, street style, paparazzi campaigns and everywhere in between, this ascension shows no signs of slowing.

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I call it like I see it: men are in their bag era. From courtside seats to red carpets, private jets to paparazzi flashes, today’s style-savvy set aren’t just dressing up, they’re accessorising down. And their statement of choice? The power bag: oversized or minuscule, hyper-luxe or streetwear-adjacent, and unapologetically visible.

From A$AP’s bubblegum-pink Bottega tote to Pharrell’s locker-sized Hermès Haut à Courroies, the message is clear: masculinity no longer precludes glamour. And in a cultural climate where identity is fluid and menswear’s rigid rules are being actively dismantled, the power bag has emerged as a symbol of fashion liberation.

For decades, men's bags were relegated to boring territory: briefcases for business, backpacks for practicality, crossbodies for urban function. But now? Men are stepping into the same high-fashion, high-stakes bag game dominated by women. The result? A shake-up of the accessory landscape. The message is subtle but seismic: a man can carry a luxury bag, too.

So, why are men’s bags having a moment now? A few things may help explain the timing:
→ Post-pandemic wardrobe reevaluation: The pandemic forced fashion into a more introspective space. With dressing down normalised, accessorising became a way to reassert individuality, and the bag, both functional and expressive, filled that void.
→ The genderless fashion boom: As runways and brands continue to blur the lines of traditional gender norms, accessories have become the frontier of experimentation. And because men’s wardrobes still lack variety, the bag becomes a vessel for risk-taking.
→ Celeb-driven style evolution: When NBA tunnel walks rival runways and rappers have standing invitations to sit front row, it’s no wonder the bag is being reimagined. Celebrities are leaning into fashion as performance, and the bag is a supporting actor.

What was once a niche experiment is now an expanding industry. Brands aren’t merely making their women’s bags in darker tones or larger sizes; they’re designing specifically for a new kind of male customer, one who sees bags as both fashion and investment.

Sceptics might call this trend a TikTok-fueled blip or just another It-boy phase. But fashion has always been a mirror to broader societal change. And this shift feels more permanent. It's not just about what’s being worn, it’s about who’s allowed to wear it, and how that disrupts historical dress codes of masculinity. 

We’re entering an era where aesthetics are expanding. Not just via clothing, but in how men experience and use fashion as a vehicle for self-expression. And while style is cyclical, progress isn’t. The power bag is opening the door to a broader idea of who men can be, and what they’re allowed to carry, both literally and symbolically.

The Breakdown

The origin story.

Over a decade ago, brands like Supreme began releasing boxy, logo-drenched satchels that men didn’t just wear for utility, but as identity. These weren’t discreet carryalls tucked away behind anonymity. They were meant to be seen. And that mattered. In streetwear culture, status is coded in scarcity, and these bags became artefacts of affiliation. 

The leap from street to elite was marked by a pivotal moment: Dior Men’s 2018 Saddle Bag, reimagined by Kim Jones. Previously the domain of fashion’s feminine elite, the Saddle was subtly tweaked into a new masculine icon. Here was a bag designed for men that didn’t try to pretend it was something else. It wasn’t a backpack. It wasn’t a tech pouch. It was a bag. On a man. At Dior.

The gates were opened. And luxury, always hungry for a new frontier, rushed in. Brands repackaged their most iconic women’s silhouettes for men, with edits. These bags were less dainty, more industrial. Hardware got chunkier. Materials became more utilitarian. It was less about shrinking femininity and more about tailoring aesthetics to male clientele. This was part of a broader loosening of gender expectations as the cultural bandwidth for aesthetics expanded, and bags came along for the ride.

The very phrase “man bag” feels outdated now. We’re in the post-label era of men’s accessories, where form is no longer bound by function, and masculinity is no longer bound by rigidity. The bag is no longer a compromise or necessity. It’s a statement of taste. Of power. This evolution signals a future where accessories aren’t about decoding someone's masculinity or femininity, they’re about aesthetic resonance. 

Expect more design houses to double down. Expect resale values to climb. Expect teenage boys to covet bags like they once did Air Jordans. And expect men — across industries, orientations, and continents — to understand that fashion is a language. And that a good bag speaks volumes.

The evolution.

What made me lock in and realise men's bags were getting a serious image overhaul wasn't a runway collection; it was a sidewalk stroll. A$AP Rocky, arguably one of today’s most stylish men, was photographed by paparazzi as he casually ran errands… while swinging a plush, oversized Bottega Veneta tote. I was sold.

That campaign, pulled straight from real life, wasn’t just marketing genius from Bottega. It marked a shift from men hiding their accessories in the shadows to wearing them like trophies. The age of the men’s power bag had arrived, and we’re now deep in its defining chapter.

When Virgil Abloh took the helm at LV, he used bags as canvases for narrative. Graffiti scribbles, chains, see-through trunks, and industrial straps became part of the visual vocabulary of his collections. Bags weren’t just accessories; they were artefacts, pushing forward the brand’s ethos of Black excellence, street culture, and subversion. 

Then there’s Telfar, the Brooklyn-born brand whose Shopping Bag blurred gender, class, and fashion boundaries. Their motto? Not for you — for everyone. And everyone did buy it: the drop system had girlies and guys scrambling equally. In many ways, Telfar democratised the It bag, making it not only accessible but wearable for all.

To top it off, the data doesn't lie. Fashion search engine Lyst reported dramatic increases in men’s bag interest by mid-2023: +71% for belt bags, +61% for messenger bags, +54% for totes. Resale sites like StockX now show handbag sales split evenly between men and women — a shift that reveals this is not just a style moment. It’s an economic ecosystem.

Luxury retailers have clocked this. They’re designing bags that fall in the sweet spot between traditional and trending, satisfying both the Tom Ford-loving executive and the Off-White fanboy. Why? Because bags retain value, weather recessions, and are often built to outlast the hype cycle.

We’re witnessing the rise of the post-category accessory. In a culture increasingly driven by personal branding, your bag doesn’t just carry your belongings; it carries your signal to the world: who you are, what you value, how deeply you care about details. So yes, men's bags have had an upgrade. But more importantly, men have upgraded their relationship with fashion — from utilitarian to expressive, from cautious to curatorial. Next time you see a man with a Birkin? Don’t ask why. Ask which season.

Louis Vuitton Men’s SS26

The tastemakers.

The men’s bag renaissance has been driven by a coalition of taste-defining athletes, designers, celebrities, brands, and communities who’ve taken the bag off the shelf and planted it firmly in our greater collective consciousness. This is the ecosystem turning such bags into new barometers of masculine style.