Last fall, I thrifted my way through Tokyo. As I tried on one pair of vintage Levi’s after another, I was struck by how the Japanese seemed to have a better perception of American style than Americans themselves. They say that sometimes you need to go somewhere new to appreciate what you have at home. That’s how, suddenly and without warning, I became consumed with desire for the humble, canvas masterpiece that is the L.L.Bean Boat and Tote.
The bag is perfect in the way a red apple sitting on a teacher’s desk is perfect. It’s classic, without ornament, the kind of thing that expresses its utility in its design. It’s both ubiquitous and aspirational, stirring up images of a dreamy East Coast: a white-sand, Nantucket beach; a shabby, wood-planked boathouse on the coast of Maine; a Gothic-inspired Ivy League campus. If I owned this bag, I too could channel the chic simplicity of Carolyn Besette Kennedy.
It seemed a bit silly to fill my precious suitcase space with an American-made item in Japan, so I waited until I got back to New York City to get my hands on one. Except, it wasn’t that easy. My preferred size and colorway (medium, long handle, zip-top, black) was on backorder. That’s okay, I thought. I’ll just buy a used one. But I ran into an issue there too. My favorite vintage shops in NYC sell them for three times the retail price ($50), and I’ve spent a little while hemming and hawing.
“Demand for the Boat and Tote is up 43% year-over-year,” says Alex Intraversato, L.L. Bean’s chief merchandise officer. “Some styles and colors sold out faster than expected this summer, and therefore were on backorder for a short time.” In fact, the Boat and Tote has been the top item for new buyer growth in the past two years, Intraversato says.
A brief history of the bag
The “It” bag of 2025 dates all the way back to 1944—in Brunswick, Maine, to be exact. The man himself, Leon Leonwood Bean, first introduced the tote as an ice carrier. At that time, most Americans bought and transported block ice from a distributor and stored it in an ice chest. The oatmeal-colored canvas bag was double-layered at the base to prevent spillage during travel, and was capable of holding 500 pounds of ice.
It disappeared from the catalog after just one season (some speculate due to wartime supply disruptions) then reemerged in 1965 as the Boat and Tote, intended to be a carry-all for boating needs and embodying a newfound nautical flair with a red and blue colorway (Bean loved spending time on his boat). Today the bag is still made with the same ironclad material used in conveyor belts. The V-point closures on the bottom corners provide added durability and distinguish the bag from similar styles on the market.
Why I love it
While I personally blame the elusive cool of Japanese Americana, there are probably a number of other reasons I couldn’t stop thinking about the bag: the “quiet luxury” trend and the style icons that embody it (like Carolyn Bessette Kennedy, who once carried the tote); a playful internet movement involving cheeky monograms like “TAX EVADER,” “old celine,” and “Dump Him” (see @ironicboatandtote); designer re-imaginings, like the $500 Tibi x L.L.Bean Boat and Tote; and the celebrities—like Chloë Sevigny, Alexa Chung, and Rihanna—that continue to carry them.