A protest about the poor state of classrooms turned to smash-and-grab at luxury boutiques, and civic angst became pure opportunism. This was France over the weekend
Outside Hermès in Marseille
It’s difficult to reconcile protests centered on student needs with cost-of-living grievances that devolve into the looting of luxury stores. What happened in France this past weekend, even for those who visit the city regularly is hard to comprehend. In Limoges, the roof and the clock tower spire of the 140-year-old historic Town Hall collapsed when the building was set ablaze. In Lyon, the city’s iconic Tourist Office burned and is now “heavily damaged”, according to local media. In 2022, a group of Chinese girls, also students, stood—all clad in hanfu (汉服)—in front of the Dior Champs-Élysées store to express cultural dissent, objecting the brand calling what was essentially a horse-face skirt (马面裙, mamianqun), a “hallmark Dior silhouette”. Although really small—numbering no more than 20 people, that was a protest. This weekend, when even Dior stores were looted during what has been called a protest, it became clear: these were really riots.
To be sure, we were not in Paris and the other French cities to witness the mayhem. But the mindless extraction of consumer loot was vividly broadcast everywhere, especially on social media. Even tourists, caught in the pandemonium, recorded and shared reels of the “unbelievable” scenes captured. There is a visual dissonance in watching stores that usually require an appointment or the joining of a queue to enter switch to an unrestricted open-door policy. Perhaps, nothing highlights the absurdity of social class quite like watching luxury handbags get distributed on a first-come, first-served basis. But there they were, men in hoodies emerging from Louis Vuitton and Céline stores—just to name two—with armfuls of handbags, dropping them, picking them up and running off. Their body language was akin to the satisfaction of getting the last five heads of cabbages for free at the vegetable wholesale market.
Strangely, a trunk emerges from a looted Louis Vuitton store
Immediately, many of these brands were stripped of the aura that took many years and massive expense to build. One video captured outside the Hermès store in Marseille, situated in Rue Grignan that, like Cours de l’Intendance, on which Louis Vuitton sits, is part of the famed Triangle d’Or (or Golden Triangle), did not show the damage to the store, but the litter strewn in front of it: unboxed boxes in the recognisable Hermès orange, dusy bags, tissue paper to cushion the merchandise they housed. In Paris, hooded and masked groups smashed the window of the Céline Avenue Montaigne store and ransacked the space, leaving it empty of merchandise. Outside, a man running away with armfuls of handbags, dropped them. Someone tried to help himself to one, but the man retrieved it in time and sped off. Back in Marseille, outside what looked like an LV store, an individual in a black hoodie sauntered out with an opened trunk covering him like a rectangular cuboid carapace of a tortoise.
To be sure, we do not know if what was taken and worn out of the store was an LV trunk, since it looked to be such an easily put-on shell, even when it was technically a piece of luggage. But what we did not witness were Lesage-beaded gowns or even a wool suit. The looters made off with bags, belts, wallets, presumably watches and sneakers. Except for that one trunk, these were portable, recognisable, and, crucially, tradable. The fleeing trunk was not really funny, even if there was something darkly absurd about it, but the moment was striking because it ceased to be about travel culture—just an overly large token of value. So were those bags, cradled like a stockist obliging his riverine shop in Hoi An. A truly compelling object is often interesting the more closely we examine it. But those bags, to us, now are as coveted as bad advice. When we looked at those videos featured repeatedly on our feeds, we saw inane unboxing videos, influencer hauls, celebrity vaults, and, again, the gleeful looting.
Earlier today, we went to a Louis Vuitton store to see if we would feel differently about their merchandise after seeing what happened in France. It would be disingenuous to claim that the products were beckoning. We kept noticing bags small enough to be swiped in a very short time. We spotted the little Noé. The framed card that accompanied it told us that Noé was originally a wine bag, but they’ve turned it into a “city bag” (S$2,840 for the Néonoé BB model), which is perfectly compact for those urban getaways when looters need to grab something handy. In our sight was an all-glass display unit with all-glass legs. It looked very easy to topple. When we spoke to the SA, he told us that they might be looking at how to make the units more secure. Curious, we asked him how the disorder in France had affected business. He replied confidently, acknowledging that there has been no new security arrangements since the morning, “Only in Europe. It will never happen here”.
Passing Céline, we sauntered in, wondering if we might see those bags that, two days ago, landed on the pavement in Paris, and quickly retrieved. But it was hard to tell, mostly because the store was dead quiet, yet stuffed with enough bags to cushion a Himalayan Birkin that has lost its owner’s grip. The helpful SA was similarly confident that the store’s security would not be compromised because “this is Singapore”. And the bag business stays strong because “we have customers who won’t be going to shop in Paris for now, so they shop with us.” A short distance away, still inside the mall, we spotted two Chinese tourists and one of them had her LV All In perched atop her suitcase. We learned that they merely want to “看最后一眼 (take a last look) before going to the airport. When we asked them if they shopped at LV, the one with the All In said, “El-Wei 在国内已经不流行了 (It’s no longer popular in the country).” Gesticulating to her bag, she added, “这是我旅行包 (this is my travel bag).” As she moved her hand, she knocked the bag down—it splayed indelicately on the ground. A handbag in a boutique is staged. On the floor, it is aura-free.
Screen shots: X/Instagram
