MAY 27 — EVER since the raids on the home of the ex-prime minister as well as apartments belonging to his family, my favourite genre of social media commentary these days has got to be “clueless men mansplaining handbags” as I am one of those clueless men as well.
For example, a pro-Pakatan Harapan (PH) activist claimed that Datin Seri Rosmah Mansor was the alleged buyer of the world’s most expensive Hermès Birkin handbag, a white Himalaya crocodile that was auctioned off at nearly US$380,000 (RM1.5 million), by pointing to a photo of Rosmah and her own white Birkin.
Avid handbag users would have noticed that the two bags are nowhere alike, despite both being white Himalayas. For example, even an untrained eye like mine could see that Rosmah’s did not have the diamond and 18-karat-gold hardware of the former.
Rosmah may have had said bag, but until the police finishes cross-checking the 284 seized Hermès bags to check their value, we may never know.
Several op-eds have also suggested the reason behind Rosmah’s enormous collection of Birkins in all shades and configurations.
As the story goes, the bag was invented when its namesake, actress Jane Birkin, and Hermès CEO Jean-Louis Dumas, had a chat on a plane after the former spilled the contents of her bag while sitting beside the latter. Birkin had wanted a bag roomier and sturdier than Hermès’ Kelly, and the rest is history.
It has also been suggested in a 2018 Oxford Students article by Leonie Hutch, citing a 2010 paper on luxury goods, that the Birkin was a perfect example of a luxury item used by the wealthy to “subtly” signal to their contemporaries of their own status.
The Birkin, initially plainly designed with none of the branding visible — unlike the attention-calling Louis Vuitton or the garish Gucci — but at an intimidating entry price, fit the bill for the ultra-wealthy.
But it seems unlikely that the former PM’s wife had chosen the bag for its utility, nor its subtlety, considering the loud colours that she chose to keep.
Several articles have pointed at the Birkin’s investment value. A study by Baghunter on the secondary market value suggested that the annual return of a Birkin outperformed both gold and the S&P 500 stock index in the last four decades or so.
But similarly, it is hard to believe that Rosmah had kept over 200 bags for investment, considering the same raids found RM114 million cash in 26 different denominations so far — hardly a financially-rewarding way to store your money.
In a recent conversation with political analyst and historian Amrita Malhi, she pondered whether the collection represent some sort of power: “It must be mystical, not financial or rational,” she said.
Considering the family’s alleged fixation with superstition — Najib’s penchant for the number 11, allegations of employing shamans and witchcraft, and most recently inviting tahfiz students for religious rituals — Amrita may not be that far off.
The handbags may have been a totem for Rosmah’s psyche, akin to a religious symbol of absolute power -- that one is not only rich enough to afford them, but authoritative enough to skip the fabled waiting list or circumvent their scarcity, and esteemed enough for Hermès to offer them or for others to present as gifts, or rather, feudal tribute.
As the shellshocked country tries to come to terms with the amount of excess uncovered, inevitably the recoil comes in the form of worship of frugality.
Prime Minister Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad, always mindful when it comes to public optics, has received praise just for using things a common man would buy — from a RM12 pair of Bata sandals, to a RM4 Pilot ball pen — to eating a moderate amount of white rice and driving a red Proton Perdana on his own.
His wife Dr Siti Hasmah Mohd Ali, however, “fell victim” to the mansplaining crowd I mentioned at the start of the article who claimed she owns a RM140 Marie Claire handbag, when it was actually a Hamano close to RM2,000.
Defence Minister Mohamad Sabu, himself a man who has never lived in opulence due to his constant struggle for the people, was praised for living in a terrace house with a Perodua Viva parked in front -- resulting in hoax accounts of him allegedly asking to drive said car to work, which he has since denied.
It is no secret that the country is bleeding money, no thanks to Finance Minister Lim Guan Eng’s “bluntness” which riled up foreign investors who get provoked at the slightest mention of uncertainties and inconcrete policies.
With the amount of austerity measures that Putrajaya would have to make in the first 100 days of PH rule, it is comforting to have our ministers and political leaders give a semblance of being normal persons, rather than warlords and empresses who would no sooner tell us to eat cake.
But it would be a mistake to worship them as our saviours, or to think of them as deities that deserves our idolatry. The government is here to serve the public, and we should be reminded of this when we see our ministers wearing their black-and-white name tags.
A recent video nauseated me when it showed reporters shouting “we love you!” to Robert Kuok, who was named a member of the Council of Eminent Persons to advise the administration.
Forbes estimated Kuok’s worth at US$14.8 billion (RM59 billion), and for all the opportunities and privileges he had to accrue such riches, helping Malaysia right now is not a sacrifice for him — it is an obligation. Kuok did not ask for or need such adoration.
Even more baffling was a trend last week of Malaysians suggesting for a fund where Malaysians could chip in some cash to help relief the country’s debt. A viral post on Facebook showed somebody offering two RM50 notes to help, which was lauded as a symbolic gesture.
To any Malaysians foolish enough to participate in this trend, perhaps now is the time to remind you that we have already paid enough to help fill up our country’s coffers — it is called taxes.
There is much Malaysians can offer in rebuilding this new Malaysia, but make no mistake, we do not owe our politicians even a sen.
