When my girlfriend arrived at my house for dinner last week, she looked pretty normal. Except for one thing. Across her torso was a colorful rope with her phone attached. I took a closer look. Was it an overly long lanyard? A spaghetti-thin purse? No. It’s obviously a phone strap.
The concept, it turns out, is pretty simple. Imagine an elongated necklace that you can wear like a shoulder bag, except that you only carry your device in it. The device is currently in fashion: American “It-girl” models Gigi Hadid and Kendall Jenner are often seen with pearl straps on their phones. And the accessory has even made its way to the front rows: Deputy Prime Minister Angela Rayner wore one – albeit a more professional and understated version – at a meeting at 10 Downing Street last month.
In practical terms, the phone strap might make sense, as the average person in the UK spends more than three and a half hours a day glued to their phone – so why not make it a regular part of your outfit? But actually, the trend wasn’t inspired by our limb-like attachment to our devices at all. It’s just a way to distract women from noticing the lack of pockets on our clothes.
Women’s clothing is rarely designed for practical purposes. This is something that has bothered me for most of my life. It’s why I jump for joy when I find a dress or skirt with built-in pockets (or get jealous when I see a carefree man walking around without a pocket). In reality, most of my clothes have no pockets at all. Sometimes, at first glance, it looks like a piece of clothing I have my eye on has a pocket, but it’s just a “fake pocket” and completely useless. And as for my jeans, their pockets are only big enough to hold a pack of Wrigley’s Extra. Even as I write this, my outfit has one functioning pocket, and it doesn’t even fit my phone. In comparison, there is no pocket poverty in men’s clothing. Lush fabric pouches are neatly sewn into the inside and outside of suit jackets. And as for trouser pockets, they are much deeper than women’s.
If you’ll allow me to delve a little into fashion history, it’s pretty clear that bags are political. The story of their evolution in women’s fashion – or lack thereof – is marked by sexism and economic inequality, with women traditionally expected to dress for beauty rather than practicality.
But of course, women still had to carry things in the 17th century. Back then, women wore secret, removable bags under their petticoats. Some women used them to store or hide sentimental items such as letters, miniature portraits or other mementos of loved ones, according to the V&A. While the archives contain little evidence of what women kept in these bags, police pickpocketing records show that women carried everyday items such as small knives, gloves or sewing tools such as thimbles.
In the 20th century, when dresses became more figure-hugging, pouch bags went completely out of fashion. The New York Times Hannah Carlson, lecturer in fashion history and author of Bags: An intimate story about how we keep things with usexplained that many seamstresses did not want to sew pockets into women’s dresses because they detracted from the silhouette of the garment, especially when the pockets were filled. “Activist Elizabeth Cady Stanton had to beg her seamstress to put a pocket in her dress,” Carlson said. “Her seamstress replied that pockets would ‘bulge you out awfully!'” It was different in men’s fashion. Pockets became standard when the suit was industrialized in the 1850s. Carlson explained that pockets were simply “part of the business of men’s clothing.”
When we look at the ultra-modern cell phone straps, it’s easy to see why they’re so popular with women. The accessories industry has long capitalized on women not having bags: many fashion historians attribute the handbag boom in the 1950s to women’s newfound independence in the post-war years and the fact that women had to carry more things around with them.
The phone strap is another accessory that capitalizes on women’s lack of bags. It also makes sense in this day and age, when everything we could possibly need today is stored digitally on our phones. Already, it seems that designer brands are cashing in on it – charging a pretty penny for what is essentially rope. Prada sells a phone case on a metal chain for £810, Miu Miu sells a leather case for £480, and at Hermes: £1,280.
But whatever they cost, I secretly hate them. Because while the phone strap helps you carry essentials, it also ruins your outfit. I tried my friend’s colorful strap: it was completely unflattering, as it cut into my chest. And, I might add, it’s especially annoying when your phone keeps hitting your bum when you’re walking at a reasonably fast pace. I long for the days when I can leave the house without a bag and wear an outfit with pockets that can hold my phone, keys, and card holder instead. But that’s wishful thinking.
My friend, meanwhile, tells me that she bought a lanyard for her phone so that it is physically attached to her while she walks and uses it. Her area has seen a rise in phone thefts: according to the London Police, a phone is now stolen every six minutes in London. Instead of bags, a lanyard could serve as an extra layer of protection and deter thieves who cycle around the city and are easily overlooked. And ironically, according to government statistics, women are more likely to be victims of phone theft than men.
Still, I’m not convinced that a strap really helps. To test this, my girlfriend and I – after a few glasses of wine – decide to stage a fake robbery in my living room to see if the accessory can withstand even the hardest tug. I put it on and play the victim in this amateur game; my girlfriend, who goes to the gym, is the thief. When she pulls on my phone, the rope is so strong that I’m pulled down with it. Suddenly I’m lying on the floor. Surely the thief would have just laughed at me and trampled away?
But you know what would have really helped me in this scenario? Clothes with real pockets. Do you hear me, fashion gods?
