Olivier’s Handbag Repair, San Francisco

​In the late 1970s, Olivier’s Handbag & Leather Goods Repair was located on the 4th floor of a building at 140 Geary Street in San Francisco—just down the block from Union Square. The location was ideal; many high-end stores were, and are, found in that area, including Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Fendi, Salvatore Ferragamo, Hermès, and more. 

Hermès Bolide 1923 - 45 Chimeres Dragon Bag. $16,900. hermes.com

​      I was working as a guitar teacher at the San Francisco School of Folk Music and nearing burnout. I wanted to reinvent myself again. I had done leathercraft as a sort of side gig to guitar teaching when I lived in Salt Lake about five years earlier, and when I saw the help-wanted ad for someone to work on handbag repair, I thought I would give it a go. Brian and Karen, the Oliviers, hired me.
     Brian served as the front man—he was British with an accent, tall, nicely built, with wavy dark blond hair and the rugged good looks of a prizefighter. In fact, he had been a boxer at one time—a regimental champion while in the Royal Air Force. He also dressed up very nicely. 
       Karen, however, was the master of repair. She had a German accent and was meticulous about detail. She possessed all the skills, and except for the metalwork, which Mr. Olivier handled, her talent made the shop successful.
       ​They insisted that employees call them “Mr. and Mrs. Olivier.”

​     The suite comprised three rooms. The front room where customers entered had glass cases, comfortable chairs, tasteful art and draperies, and a small assortment of quality leather items for sale. Behind that was the workroom—work areas on a central table, packed wall shelves, parts cabinets for supplies, and tools. The third room, behind the workroom, contained the metalworking area—polishers, sharpening wheels, and the welding tools and materials. The work areas were often cluttered and chaotic with work in progress.

I wore a shop apron similar to this Filson model tin cloth split-leg apron. filson.com

     The entrance to the suite had a bell, and when it rang, Mr. Olivier would often say, “Here comes another punter,” as he pulled on his jacket and straightened his tie.

​     Handbags are an interesting study in engineering. Some have metal frames and metal clasps—some include many internal compartments. They may have gussets, side panels that allow for expansion. They require zippers, rivets, even welding when a frame has broken. These many features are sewn, stitched, riveted, strapped. Bags also have linings that may include pockets. 

An Hermès advertisement from 1923, when they made saddles, harnesses, and other horse tack. Public domain.

Advertisement for Louis Vuitton travel trunks, July 1898. Public Domain.

     ​Some of the major handbag and luggage companies began in the 1800s as suppliers of harnesses, bridles, saddles, and bags (such as Hermès), or as makers of trunks for long voyages (Louis Vuitton).  
     At Olivier’s, I learned how to work with metals—frames, connectors, and clasps that needed welding, shaping, smoothing, polishing, even gold-plating. I also learned the pitfalls of working with unknown metal. One customer had a bag where the clasp, a fancy gold-colored butterfly, had broken. It looked repairable. ​

​     I took it to the back room and put on the welding helmet and gloves. As I began to weld a new connector onto the back, the whole butterfly dissolved into a pool of silver liquid on the bench. The piece had been cast in pot metal (a low-quality metal), and then plated with brass. Mr. Olivier told me that one could sometimes use a file on an invisible area of a metal piece to see whether it’s plated instead of solid. I did find a solid-brass piece, not a butterfly, that would work as a replacement. The owner understood what had happened, but I think she missed the butterfly.
      One day Mr. and Mrs. Olivier were out, and as “senior staff” I was on the front desk if customers came in. A woman entered dressed all in Gucci, carrying a Yorkshire terrier under her arm. She had come to pick up her cleaned handbag. Oddly, Yorkshire terriers like me; they are not usually friendly to unfamiliar people. She set the dog on the counter, and it proceeded to start licking my hand. Lick . . . lick . . . lick . . . I retrieved the woman’s bag from underneath the counter and slowly unwrapped it. 

     She stared at it. I noticed she was turning very red from her collar up. She said, “It’s black.”
     I said, “Um . . . yes?” Well, I could see that it was black.
      “You don’t understand. It was navy blue when I brought it in.”
    The dog kept licking my hand. I looked at the woman’s outfit and realized she was wearing all navy blue and white Gucci. Oh dear.

Christian Dior Saddle Bag in black goatskin. $3,800. dior.com

      “Obviously, some error has been made,” I offered, wrapping the bag back up. This was a Major Problem. “I will need to talk to Mr. Olivier about it. I’m very sorry, but we will see what can be done.”
     She picked up the Yorkshire terrier, which gazed wistfully at me, and stormed out, leaving a trail of angry disappointment behind.
     When we cleaned bags, we used solvents to remove dirt, oils, and any old wax from the surface. A relatively mild solvent, such as water or diluted alcohol, would usually take care of this. But for some jobs, such as stripping, we used acetone.  

     As it turned out, Mrs. Olivier had picked up the acetone bottle in error and stripped the front of the bag. This meant she had to strip the whole bag (including straps and any hidden areas), re-dye it, and refinish it.
​     Mrs. Olivier then selected a can of spray-on dye that was labeled navy blue, but upon applying it, she saw that it was darker. Much darker. As in . . . black. She thought perhaps the color was close enough that the customer wouldn’t notice. Well, not this customer.
​​      The Oliviers bought that woman a new Gucci bag.

Louis Vuitton Petite Malle East West. $6,500. us.louisvitton.com

     We also did repair and polishing work on brand-new bags from the stores in that area. Sometimes the bags would be damaged while on the rack. This was when I came across my first Louis Vuitton bag with a price tag of $750. That was six times what I made in a week! Prices seem to have stayed as high or higher in today’s dollars, as you can see from the images I’ve included.
      When I left the job at Olivier’s, Mr. and Mrs. Olivier were not getting along well. Mrs. Olivier wanted out of the business. I didn’t stay in touch with them; I got an office job in South San Francisco working for a musical instrument importer and wholesaler. 

Fendi Peekaboo Bag. $3,698. fendi.com

​     Earlier this year I found an obituary for Brian Olivier, who had passed away in 2015 at age 82 in Daly City. Karen was no longer mentioned, and I expect they split up. I’m not sure what happened with their business, but it’s no longer at that address. 
     I had been happy doing the work at Olivier’s and I often think of the many wonderful bags I repaired.