So, the Hermes Hac à Dos. Yeah, that bag. People talk about it, you see pictures, and you kinda wonder what the big deal is, right? For a backpack, of all things.
My journey with this thing, my “practice” as I call it, wasn’t just about walking into a store and buying a bag. Oh no, it’s never that simple with these folks, is it? It felt more like an accidental adventure, or maybe a test of patience I didn’t know I signed up for.
First off, the decision.
I wasn’t even looking for one, not really. I had a perfectly good backpack. Several, in fact. But you know how it is. You see things, you hear things. And then one day, I just finished this absolutely killer project at work. I mean, weeks of no sleep, coffee for blood, the whole nine yards. I felt like a wrung-out dishcloth. And I thought, “You know what? I’m gonna get myself something. Something a bit nuts.” Not really as a reward, more like a, “I survived, now what?” kind of gesture.
So, the Hac à Dos idea popped into my head. Seemed like the ultimate “I’m done with sensible for a bit” item.
The “Getting It” Part
This is where the real fun begins, and by fun, I mean the opposite. You don’t just “buy” these things. It’s like trying to join a secret club. I poked around a bit, made some casual inquiries. It felt like everyone was speaking in code. “Availability,” they’d say, with a knowing smile. What availability? There’s a bag, or there isn’t, right?
I didn’t play any of those games some people talk about, buying loads of other stuff just to get “the call.” Honestly, I don’t have the time or the money for that kind of performance. I just sort of… waited. I put my name down, half-expecting never to hear back. Figured it was a sign from the universe to stick to my old Jansport.
Then, out of the blue, months later, I got a message. They had one. Just like that. I almost fell off my chair. I’d kind of forgotten about it, moved on with my life, battled other work dragons.
So, I went to see it.
Walking into the store felt a bit like going for an interview. It’s quiet, everyone’s very polite. And there it was. It’s a bag. A very, very well-made bag, sure. The leather feels incredible, smells amazing. All that craftsmanship stuff they talk about? Yeah, it’s there. You can see it, feel it.
I stood there for a bit, just looking at it. All that build-up, all that mental energy I’d spent, first deciding, then the weird waiting game. And now, here’s this physical object.
Living With It (Sort Of)
Bringing it home was… strange. It’s not like it suddenly made my coffee taste better or my commute shorter. It’s a backpack. A ridiculously expensive backpack. For a while, I was almost scared to use it. What if I scratched it? What if someone spilled coffee on it? It’s like having a museum piece you’re supposed to sling over your shoulder.
My actual “practice” with it has been pretty mundane. I’ve used it for work a few times, mostly when I need to carry a bit more than usual and want to feel a tiny bit put-together, even if I’m a mess inside. It holds my laptop, my notebook, a water bottle, the usual stuff. It does its job as a backpack.
But the biggest part of the “practice,” for me, wasn’t the using. It was the whole journey. The impulsive decision born from burnout, the silly dance of trying to acquire it, and then the weird anti-climax of actually owning it. It’s more of a story I tell myself now, a reminder of that crazy project and the feeling of wanting to do something just… because.
So, yeah. The Hermes Hac à Dos. It’s a bag. And it’s a whole lot of other stuff all rolled into one. Mostly, it just sits there, looking pretty, reminding me that sometimes, you just gotta do the slightly unhinged thing.
