(Well, that's a lie. I actually owned a Hermès briefcase years ago that I ended up selling since it was too small for my everyday needs.) Hello Hermès forum! My name is Fabuleux, I am a guy, and I usually hang out on the Louis Vuitton side of the border. I have a great collection of Vuitton bags and luggage that I have built over the years. I live in the United States but I am originally from France, where I try to shop when I'm on vacation. This summer, I had ordered a bag from my long-time LV SA, as I usually do. Last week, he messaged me to admit that he wasn't sure the bag could be delivered before my departure date (those runway bags are getting more and more difficult to get). What a disappointment! The next day, I decided to walk into the local Hermès boutique to browse. I was wondering if the Garden Party came in a larger size than the 36, and the SA who helped me said it had been discontinued as a regular item but may pop up once in a while as a special production (forgive my deficient Hermès nomenclature). As a tote lover, this would have been a good option. Oh well! I was just not meant to get a new bag this year! It's not like I need a bag... Despite not being able to offer a Titanic-sized GP, the SA asked me if I would be open to looking at other options. I said "sure" and he proceeded with a variety of questions about my taste. I happily answered these questions, emphasizing that weigh was, of course, a concern since I carry my bags daily for work. He left. I waited about 15 minutes admiring the various objets presented across the store. A marvelous chess set. A sophisticated collection of desk accessories. A row of belts like an army ready for battle with their sharply polished gold 'H" buckles. Interrupting my reverie, the SA eventually returned with two humongous orange boxes and invited me in one of the large dressing rooms. I followed him obediently, weaving my way through a growing herd of tourists trampling the elegant floor with their sandy feet. The refined atmosphere of luxury stores is relatively easily ruined by those who visit them. Once the door of the small room closed behind us, serenity and stillness returned. The first box revealed a Bolide 1923 45 in deep dark blue with this season's baseball details (priced at 8800 euros). The size and color were quite nice but the homage to a sport for which I still can't understand the rules was lost on me. I already knew that, despite being a beautiful piece, this Bolide was not meant to go home with me. The SA immediately opened the second box and began to unwrap its content. He explained: "This is a Haut à courroies in size 40. I thought you might like it. You can use it for work but you can also use it for travel." I probably remained quiet for a few seconds as I was admiring what everyone knows to be one of the most iconic bags in the history of fashion. There it was, still nestled in its dustbag, slowly revealing its yellow lime leather and ficelle toile de camp. Terribly classic by its shape, yet surprisingly impudent by its attitude. I tried it on. I asked a few pertinent questions about the toile and about the leather. I told the SA that I would think about it before making a decision. Unlike at Louis Vuitton--where I know all about the history, the materials, and the craftsmanship--I am fairly uneducated about Hermès. Once at home, I reached out to a couple of forum members asking for advice and inquiring about technical elements. They took the time to answer my questions and I thank them for their wise and kind responses. Sunday. The store is closed. I was thinking about the HAC waiting for me in the depth of the stockroom. Would I help him break free from his orange prison? Was he thinking about me too? First thing this morning, I returned to the boutique and asked the SA for the bag. I needed to see if the thrill of the moment had passed. After all, things often seem duller the day after Christmas. He smiled. He tells me: "I knew you liked it. I could see it in your eyes." It was true.