Stuck in REM Sleep: The Psyche of Pillow Bag

What lies beneath our desire for plush accessories: a portable refuge, a representation of autonomy, or a cultural shift?

Maison Margiela Grand Slam 

By Julia Silverberg

On my bed, I have two pillows: one is striped, and the other is black with gold trim. When I wake to my 8:30 alarm each morning, I bury my head under them, trying to keep the day out, and leave some of my heavier thoughts behind in their feathery, polyester blend. Once the light filters through, and I accept that I can no longer hide in my sleep, I routinely gather my strength to head out the door, forsaking whatever I chose to forget through the previous night's REM cycle — but recently, I’ve found myself carrying a bit of dreamy comfort with me throughout my day. A subconscious behavior, when getting ready to face the restless New York morning, I reach for a new accessory: the pillow bag.

From the Margiela Grand Slam to the plushy Coach Tabby, it seems that every major label has released a take on the padded, plush-y purse, playing on our longing to have a piece of our bed set with us wherever we go, and our exhaustion due to overwork. But aside from its tactility and soft appearance, I found myself wondering how this archetype has maintained its “staple” status? When looking at the bag, the division between interior and exterior is stark; considering my own, which I got for 20 dollars off Vinted last spring, there is something glamorous about the leather-y monogrammed facade that the inside, littered with unsealed makeup products, loose tobacco, and wrinkled receipts, lacks. I wince when I let a friend reach for a piece of gum, knowing what it is to rummage around my eclectic belongings, the three-ish pounds that I carry on my shoulder like a limb. Seeing them shake the loose tobacco off their hand after it’s emerged from my bag feels like someone’s picking a cut; the discomfort in letting others explore our purses is a particularly blatant translation of the separation between our private and public lives, a show of the need to conceal the emotional baggage we bring with us on the daily. 

Far from being just another stylish accessory, the pillow bag symbolizes an exploration of modern vulnerability, our yearning for escapism, and the intricate tension between what we choose to reveal and what we prefer to keep to ourselves. At first glance, its playful design acts as a lighthearted addition to our fashion landscape. Its soft, cushioned appearance evokes a sense of tranquil coziness that contrasts sharply with the more structured, rigid designs such as Coperni’s iconic Swipe or Balenciaga’s Shoe Clutch Knife that have dominated the industry in recent years. But, the pillow bag is more than just a fashionable statement piece; it is a reflection of a deeper psychological and cultural shift.

As I struggle to fit my eight hours in each night, the allure of rest has taken on a new significance. Sleep, once solely a biological necessity, has become a form of sanctuary from the relentless pace of daily life. It is in bed that we find temporary reprieve from our worries, a place where we can retreat from the pressures of the outside world. As the very symbol of sleep, the pillow has thus transcended its functional role to become an emblem of this escapism. Through carrying a pillow bag, we are, in essence, carrying a piece of this calm with us. It serves as a constant reminder of the safety of our beds, a place where we can let down our defenses and simply be. In this way, it becomes a portable refuge, a way of holding onto that sense even as we move through the chaos of our daily lives.

Rick Owens Pillow Griffin Bag 

Though my first thoughts of this bag go to the puffer jacket-type protection that the extra lining provides, it can also reveal our vulnerabilities. In a society that often values strength, control, and self-sufficiency, the pillow bag’s yielding form seems to act as an acknowledgment that we are not always in control, that we have needs, fears, and desires. When I put it on my shoulder, it is an admittance of my longings, a therapeutic acceptance of the tiredness that my other handbags attempt to dress up despite their scuffs or tearing straps.

More than being styling accessories or “investment pieces” bags are loaded with symbolism. I appreciate the way pillow bags incite confessionary thoughts in me. One pillow bag that I’ve been fantasizing about both guarding and revealing my desires is the Rick Owens Pillow Griffin Bag. From their SS24 Lido Collection, its large metal closure and black lambskin form is resolute, a fortified show of vulnerability that holds true to the label’s ethos. Even if you are into more dark, drape-y designs, light dozy-ness is a necessity imbued within the brand’s garments, folded into them much like the pillow bag, making it a must have if you, like me, are a follower of these styles. Though the Rick Owens model has been speaking to me, choosing a pillow bag is personal, like choosing a duvet. When doing so, our desire aligns with Jungian symbolism, where the object is often seen as a metaphorical container. It is a secret womb, representing the feminine and, by extension, the hidden, often unconscious aspects of the self. Whether you chose one by Bottega or LOEWE, the pillow bag, with its exterior softness and concealed interior, becomes a metaphor for the human psyche: outwardly approachable, yet containing complexity and depth that are not immediately visible. In this way, it is not just a reflection of our vulnerability—it is an invitation to explore it.

Judy Chicago’s runway for Dior (2020)

There is one key example I can think of when exploring interior life and feminine in fashion; in 2020, American artist Judy Chicago designed a runway for Dior’s SS collection. Inviting the world of fashion into a womb-shaped structure, she challenged the phallic architecture and design we often see, jokingly commenting on the subconscious desire to re-enter the womb. Crazy. It is interesting to think of the pillow bag as another iteration of this, a space of comfort, yet one that we are uncertain to enter. I liked a quote by researcher Sandra LeBlanc, in Problemitizing Handbags—“Freud’s vagina dentata expresses male fear of the possibly castrating qualities lurking within the dark, mysterious, and perhaps dangerous interior of the bag.” The dichotomy between the femininity that is often associated with handbags sits in stark contrast with the perpetuated idea that though a woman carries the purse, the man holds the purse strings. I see the pillow bag as a way of combating this notion. In its unapologetic design, the pillow is a representation of autonomy, the power to bring any aspect in or out of the domestic sphere. Again, it allows for the escapism from societal pressures that is also granted in our sleep.

Though, it’s not only our pillows that I’ve recently seen hit the streets. This psychological deep dive into sleep has expanded beyond accessories and into loungewear. I spot pajama looks on my way to work that tempt me to wear a combo of cotton tanks and shorts with bedhead, throwing on a pair of motorcycle boots to dress it up. Used to going out with bags under my eyes, still smokey-eyed and sluggish from the night before, I’ve realized my take on the “slept in” look varies from the industry’s, where the commodification sleep HAS made bringing rest out of the house fashionable, but only when framed as “well-rest”. Post-2010, grind culture lost its place of chief importance, and waking up fresh and glowy is back in trend. A recent article by Robert Cordero for Business of Fashion commented on the “booming sleep economy”, and how brands have tried to sell our natural rhythms back to us through vitamins, binaural sound devices, and of course, accessories such as the pillow bag. As someone who avidly buys into these things, ordering magnesium pills on Amazon to stop myself from waking in the middle of the night, I don't know that I can criticize. Though supplementation is my effort to actually get more sleep, in an attempt to at least appear rested, I don’t mind carrying my “pillow” with me. Advocating for rest over relentless productivity, the pillow bag, though a commodity, in part, defies blind consumerism. It invites us to look beyond the surface, encouraging reflection on how the objects we buy mirror the complexities of our inner worlds.

When I look at the pillow bag, I see a piece that invites us to explore the deeper meanings of the objects we purchase and the ways in which they reflect the intricacies of our inner lives. So, back to the previously mentioned Margiela pillow bag… as soon as I saw it I knew I had to have one. I watched someone pass me with it while I was sitting in a park somewhere, trying to squeeze in my daily makeshift rest. I think, aside from wanting to squish it, the bag made me smile because I could so easily imagine placing my head on it. The reason it’s stayed “in style” is that it is a reflection of our evolving relationship with rest, vulnerability, and the boundaries between our public and private selves. These trends invite us to carry a piece of our most intimate spaces with us as we continue to navigate our daily life; they are perhaps the most fashionably honest statement we can make—because, in the end, even the busiest among us deserve a little softness, though it is rare to find such unmistakable admissions of this sentiment in the industry. As I carry my own bag from work to meet my friends for drinks, and late into the night, when I should be in my bed, I am making a statement—not just about fashion, but about who I am and what I need.