Hermes v. Hermes

 For starters, they are beautifully made. ... The bottom is built of three layers of leather. A single artisan can spend up to 25 hours painstakingly constructing a Kelly or Birkin.

And oh, the hides: silky smooth or pebbly textured calfskin; exotic lizard, crocodile and ostrich, in colors that span the spectrum. The immutable laws of supply, demand and merchandising are also at work here. Make something fabulous, in fabulously limited quantities, and people will clamor to own it. At Hermes in Fairfax -- where just a handful of objects cost under $150, such as those itty-bitty leather holders for Post-it notes -- 200 people fervently await the arrival 60 Birkins in any given season, said manager Sams-Manning. Their names are entered onto what she calls "a wish list."

Such controlled scarcity explains why the resale market is so strong.

Two years ago, an anonymous Midwesterner put 11 Hermes bags on the auction block at Doyle New York, including a 2002 black crocodile Birkin she had customized with 484 small diamonds set in the white-gold hardware. The presale estimate was $25,000 to $35,000, but when the hammer fell, the winning bidder ponied up $64,250.

"It was bought ostensibly by a gentleman for his wife," said Clare Watson, Doyle's director of couture, noting that the victor outbid another deep-pocketed chap.

In April, Inga Guen sold one consignment client a taupe ostrich Kelly for $6,000 and told another that the Birkin she'd just bought on eBay was a fake. Taped to the top of the desk in her cluttered office is the small tipsheet Guen penned to help patrons avoid getting scammed: The stitching "is diagonal /////// not horizontal -------." Or as she later explained, "the stitching goes always uphill."

So, apparently, does the satisfaction level among chic women who may save for years to buy one. "I treated myself to a Birkin when I was still working, before my first child was born," said one fashionista, seeking anonymity "because my husband has no idea how much it cost."

The very luckiest women get them the old-fashioned way; well, actually, the second-oldest old-fashioned way -- as a family legacy.

"I think I have about six or seven," said Veronique Danforth, public information service coordinator at the World Bank. "I am French, so I have been raised with those bags around me. I got my first one when I was 17. Some are 40 years old and look as if they were bought yesterday."