Social Class and The ‘Wirkin’ Birkin
Luxury gatekeepers are shooketh as class warfare takes over the fashion agenda
Hot Takes are my bullet point thoughts on fashion's hottest issues. These posts get to the heart of why people are talking about what they’re talking about, what this means, and where this could go next.
Let’s set the scene.
Step out of an Hermès boutique clutching a new Birkin bag, and voilà — your investment has doubled before you’ve hailed a taxi. No other fashion item pulls off that Houdini act of instant appreciation quite like the Birkin. But if you thought exclusivity was its only flex, think again. Enter Walmart, with a Birkin-inspired bag that sparked a TikTok frenzy and turned 2025 into a parody of high-fashion aspirations in its first week.
Let’s rewind: The Hermès Birkin, that leather, top-handle tote originally designed and modelled off of Jane Birkin’s effortless style, has long been a fashion unicorn. Its five-figure starting price, unmatched craftsmanship, and aura of unattainability have made it the ultimate status symbol. But now, thanks to Walmart, a lookalike was made available for under $100, sparking both glee and existential dread in the fashion community.
Welcome the ‘Walmart Birkin’ — or Wirkin, as the internet calls it. Back in January, it was available to purchase from third-party sellers on Walmart’s website. While it may not be hand-stitched or artisan-made, the resemblance was uncanny. TikTok videos tagged #WalmartBirkin showcased unboxings and unapologetic flexes, the most infamous being a green Wirkin unboxing by @styledbykristi — clocking in at 8.7 million views and counting.
This is where things get juicy. The Wirkin’s rise highlights the murky line between inspiration and imitation in an industry built on reinvention. Sure, the Wirkin isn’t trying to pass itself off as a Hermès original. But its existence raises some red flags. For brands like Hermès, the threat isn’t just financial; it’s the erosion of the mystique that props up their prices.
Ironically, knockoffs and dupes often serve as inadvertent marketing tools for the originals. Every viral Wirkin video reinforces the Birkin’s cultural dominance, reminding viewers that the real thing is still the ultimate prize. For aspirational shoppers, the Wirkin is the closest they’ll get to tasting the French luxury fashion house without having to take out a hefty bank loan. For Hermès purists, it’s an affront — a world where the Birkin is reduced from a whispered symbol of wealth to a hashtag.
We live in a time where chaos, commentary, and internet culture thrive on turning highbrow into lowbrow. The Wirkin is a cultural mirror of the times, fitting perfectly into the current zeitgeist. And the Birkin, once a subtle nod to privilege, has become a mainstream emblem of aspiration, and perhaps even parody. Owning one is no longer just about wealth but about the performance of wealth. Whether the Wirkin Birkin ultimately elevates or erodes the Birkin’s legacy is a question for the ages.
Status signifiers of the modern age
The Hermès Birkin isn’t just a handbag — it’s the celebrity-endorsed, holy grail of consumerist aspiration. Beyoncé, Cardi B, the Kardashian clan and even Drake proudly parade their Birkin collections like trophies of wealth, flooding social media with posts that put them high above us mere mortals. Let’s not kid ourselves: it’s a flex. A physical manifestation of status. And for those who can’t cough up the cash, legitimacy becomes optional.
As Bethenny Frankel of Real Housewives fame aptly pointed out on TikTok, counterfeit goods used to come with an aura of shame. “If you bought a bag in Chinatown, people would call you out.” But now, Walmart’s Wirkin has rewritten the rules as it gives the masses an entry point. “You’re not pretending it’s the real thing. You’re not fronting, and you’re not stunting,” Frankel declared. The Wirkin isn’t a counterfeit, it invites shoppers to dip into the fantasy of luxury.
But Frankel takes it one step further: “This is basically the mob storming the castle.” And really, she’s not wrong. The Birkin has long been a symbol of exclusivity, paraded by the elite as a reminder that certain doors will always stay locked. The Wirkin, on the other hand, hands everyone a key. It’s a collective middle finger to the gatekeepers of luxury.
Of course, there’s still a sticky layer of intellectual property debates lurking beneath the surface. Where does inspiration end and infringement begin? And what happens when high fashion collides with mass-market accessibility? These are questions Hermès might be pondering and panicking about in their leather-scented boardrooms.
But for now, the Wirkin taps into something the Birkin never could: instant gratification. No years-long waitlists. No awkward boutique visits designed to make you feel undeserving. This cultural shift isn’t just about bags — it’s about what happens when the walls of exclusivity start to crumble.
Class warfare in the age of the internet
As 2025 kicks off, it’s clear that mocking the wealthy isn’t just a pastime anymore — it’s practically a cultural sport. While Hermès loyalists smugly insist that a real Birkin owner could spot the dupe from a mile away, the rest of us see it for what it is: a jab at elitism. And TikTok, always ready to turn a product into a movement, has embraced the Wirkin as a rallying cry for blue-collar folk.
A handbag becoming the flag of class warfare wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card, but here we are. The anti-elite sentiment that has been simmering online is now being stitched into faux leather and sold for around $60. But here’s where things get sticky: even critiquing the Wirkin has been labelled classist. Its defenders argue that calling out the bag perpetuates the same exclusivity that Hermès thrives on.
This debate isn’t just about bags, it’s more than that. It’s about the uneasy relationship between luxury and accessibility. High-end fashion survives (and thrives) by erecting barriers; the appeal of a Birkin lies in its unattainability. And the high-net-worth and ultra-high-net-worth clientele Hermès caters to wouldn’t touch a dupe if it was the last thing on Earth.
Shoppers identifying as ‘Wirkin class’ were talking with their wallets when buying a Wirkin. For them, buying the dupe is less about mimicking luxury and more about mocking its excess. Yet, there’s an irony here: by purchasing the dupe, Wirkin buyers are still playing into the same game that gives the Birkin its sky-high status. The dupe only works as a symbol because of the original’s exclusivity.
This paradox, aspiring to the luxury you’re rebelling against, encapsulates the tension between high fashion and the masses. So, while Hermès’s elite customers aren’t losing sleep over Walmart’s Wirkin, the dupe’s popularity underscores a deeper cultural shift: the democratisation of aspiration and the blurring of class markers. Whether you’re Team Birkin or Team Wirkin, one thing is clear: this isn’t just a debate about handbags. It’s about who gets to participate in a world that has been designed to exclude.
My two cents.
On January 16, Walmart threw a curveball into this whole saga by teaming up with Rebag to launch an online boutique of pre-loved designer pieces. Meanwhile, in a twist that feels straight out of a satirical soap opera, Hermès faced a lawsuit in early 2024 from frustrated would-be Birkin buyers. Plaintiffs alleged that purchasing the coveted bag required a prerequisite splurge on other Hermès products, effectively turning the Birkin into the world’s most exclusive stamp card reward system.
While Hermès fiercely guards its throne, Walmart’s Wirkin continues to stir the pot. Unlike knockoffs designed to deceive, the Wirkin doesn’t pretend to be anything more than what it is: a glorified dupe. Platforms like AliExpress and DHGate have made it easy to snag fake designer wares, and TikTok has transformed knockoffs into must-haves. Now, creators flaunt their dupes to millions, reframing counterfeit and giving a middle finger to gatekeeping luxury brands.
But let’s not get too carried away. While the Hermès Birkin remains the Mount Everest of exclusivity, the Wirkin offers a playful, affordable foothill for those content with something other than the real thing. Critics argue it undermines the artistry of the original, while fans say it democratises high fashion. In reality, it does both. And that’s precisely why it’s divisive.
If we’re honest, the majority of Wirkin buyers were never in the market for a real Birkin anyway. As influencer Jesica Elise pointed out, many people likely jumped on the trend for the clout rather than any deep attachment to the bag itself. “If there’s any fear,” she quipped, “it’s that we’re too ignorant to save ourselves — or the planet.” She has a point.
Ultimately, the Wirkin represents something bigger than just a playful dupe. It’s a reflection of our messy relationship with luxury, aspiration, and consumption. The tension between exclusivity and accessibility, artistry and imitation, is as much about class and culture as it is about fashion. And for Hermès, no matter how many lawsuits they win or how many Birkins they sell, the message is clear: exclusivity may be the business model, but the joke’s on them when everyone’s laughing at the gate they built.
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Brilliantly written!❣️
I really wish Warhol was alive today to see all of this play out. The Wirkin phenomenon feels much like Warhol elevating the Campbell’s soup can as high art.