The It-Bag No One Saw Coming Is A Drawstring Potli

Chanel’s much-hyped Chanel 25 may be a novelty in Paris, but to Indian eyes, its drawstring silhouette feels instantly — and intimately — familiar.

Photo: Singer Dua Lipa for the Chanel 25 handbag campaign

Fashion loves a surprise comeback. One year it’s a baguette. The next, a micro-mini tote barely big enough for a breath mint. And now? The season’s “It-bag” is suspiciously familiar to anyone who’s attended an Indian wedding, raided an heirloom wardrobe, or received a silk-lined pouch of Diwali party favours. The potli — India’s vintage drawstring bag, is this year’s unlikely recruit to the glossy It-bag club.

Spring’s most talked-about debut came from Chanel. Its latest trophy, the Chanel 25 handbag, featured in a global campaign starring British singer Dua Lipa as the new face of the cult line — has been anointed by fashion influencers as the year’s must-have. It is a sleek drawstring bag, cut from luxe leather, with just enough quirk to seduce the young fashion crowd. On Instagram, the #Chanel25 is already racking up thousands of reels — shot in Paris, London, and inevitably, Los Angeles. But here’s the thing: while the design studio is patting itself on the back for discovering the “new” small bag, India’s potli has been holding court for as long as memory serves.

Luxury houses in India have been championing the classic drawstring long before it landed in a French atelier. Sabyasachi’s “Nani” bucket bag — equal parts nostalgia and nouveau — sells out as fast as his bridal lehengas. Tarun Tahiliani’s Bangle Potlee, with its architectural handle and hand embroidery, is both wearable sculpture and heirloom-in-waiting. Anita Dongre’s Pichhwai Bucket Bag channels the Rajasthani art for the global shopper, turning craft into a conversation starter. They belong less to trends and more to the domain of cultural staples.

Photo: Sabyasachi "Nani" Bucket Bag

If the Chanel 25 is about exclusivity and European pedigree, the potli’s charm is centred in its duality — it is both accessible and bespoke. The appeal is obvious: compact, versatile, and unexpectedly cosmopolitan with a crisp white shirt and blue jeans. Sequins, beadwork, leather, bamboo handles — name a material, and the potli imbues it with cultural flair. That is its true luxury: cultural longevity disguised as trend adaptability.

The irony is, for decades, the bespoke pouch was relegated to the “cultural” aisle — dusty, overdecorated, and destined to be carried only with a sari or lehenga. Indian designers have spent years pulling it out of that pigeonhole, giving it the kind of styling range that lets it hang off a linen dress in New York or a silk co-ord in Jaipur. Now, with Chanel’s stamp, it’s officially “fashion.”

What makes this moment particularly fascinating is timing. The global accessory market is chasing “quiet luxury” one season and “dopamine dressing” the next. The potli — embroidered, beaded, sometimes bejewelled — manages to be both. It is the discreet dinner guest at a Lutyens’ bungalow party and the centrepiece of a luxury fashion soirée in Mumbai. In an industry obsessed with having the next big thing, the drawstring pouch is proof that the next big thing might actually be the oldest thing in the room.

The potli’s greatest asset may be its economic potential. It is light, handcrafted, and endlessly customisable — making it a dream for small-batch, sustainable luxury. It captures the artisanal labour the global market is suddenly hungry for, while sidestepping the seasonality trap of most “It-bags.” In a market where a leather mini can cost as much as a month’s rent, the potli offers something rarer: heirloom value.

The Chanel 25 will have its moment, make no mistake. But bringing in the potli’s potential as a luxury export category hints that Indian fashion houses could position it on the international circuit, akin to how Hermès established the Birkin as an icon of exclusivity and craftsmanship.