When Anne Hathaway stepped out in New York City last week, the paparazzi caught more than just a star leaving “The Late Show.” They captured a quiet sartorial statement that connects the dots between two eras of fashion—and, fittingly, between two films that define them. Her accessory of choice? A $99 vegan leather handbag from JW Pei, the Los Angeles label that has made sustainability its calling card since its founding in 2017. The bag, called the Lucia Classic, is a study in restraint: soft slouch, gold hardware, and a detachable handle that transforms it from a top-handle to a clutch. It is the kind of piece that whispers rather than shouts—and that, in itself, is a kind of power dressing.
Hathaway’s appearance comes just ahead of the May 1 release of “The Devil Wears Prada 2,” in which she reprises her role as Andy Sachs, now head of features at Runway Magazine. The original film, now two decades old, was a cultural watershed not only for its sharp dialogue but for its costume design—a masterclass in how clothing can signal ambition, insecurity, and transformation. Patricia Field’s work on that film turned a cerulean blue sweater into a manifesto. Now, a new generation of viewers will watch Sachs navigate the corridors of power in Jean Paul Gaultier suits and sculptural Prada heels. But the real lesson may be in how Hathaway herself dresses off-screen: mixing a $99 bag with a Versace dress and Bvlgari jewels, she reminds us that personal style has never been about price tags alone.
JW Pei, for its part, has built a reputation on exactly this ethos. The brand’s vegan leather silhouettes have been carried by Selena Gomez, Gigi Hadid, and Hailey Bieber, but Hathaway has been a loyalist since 2021, when she first carried the now-discontinued Maze Bag. The Lucia, currently sold out in the black colorway Hathaway carried, is available in other finishes—woven dark brown, jewel-toned green, and croc-embossed suede—on Amazon and the brand’s own site. It arrives just as the fashion world revisits the early 2000s, an era when the line between “high” and “low” was first blurred by the rise of accessible luxury. In that sense, the Lucia is not merely a bag. It is a historical artifact: a symbol of how far we have come from the days when Miranda Priestly could dismiss a cerulean sweater as trivial, and how far we still have to go in redefining what power looks like.
For those attending screenings of the sequel this weekend, the choice is clear. Arrive with popcorn in one hand and a Lucia in the other. The bag will carry you from the theater to the dinner table, from the staff meeting to the date night—and, perhaps, from one decade’s definition of success to the next.
Originally reported by WWD