Tell me what backpack you use and I'll tell you who you are Five archetypes for Back to School

Ready to return to daily habits, once again in the company of the beloved backpack that tells and collects everything about us. It is the true thermometer of contemporary working life: it doesn’t lie, it doesn’t filter, and it reveals much more than a job title on LinkedIn. From an old middle school companion to an embarrassing corporate gift, from a wellness statement to a colorful eco-conscious stronghold, up to the tote bag now permanently integrated into everyday life, every model betrays a precise identity. It is not just a functional object, but a business card.

These days, as cities fill up again, public transport resumes crowded schedules, and bus shelters turn strangers into nomadic communities, the element reappearing in the urban scene is the work backpack. If LinkedIn can be hacked with not entirely truthful steps, the backpack doesn’t lie. Whether we like it or not, when deciding which bag to take to work, we make a precise choice, even when we believe we haven’t chosen at all: behind that stylistic action lies a very precise part of one’s identity that is put on display. Here, then, are five archetypes that best represent the different characters spotted in the city.

The corporate bag

The corporate bag has a few simple rules: no logos, mandatory rigidity, and small size. It must only hold the bare minimum, because those who work in the financial district don’t need extra space: lunch is eaten outside and fixed devices are already set up at the office. On one hand, the use of Anglicisms at regular intervals is mandatory, while the other essential rule is no logo. It’s not a political choice, but rather the opposite: anonymity becomes a statement declaring that “we only care about working and going home,” avoiding any association with overly clear positions.

The digital nomad’s choice

A different case is the creative nomad, who lives an unstable and precarious life, just like his work. Nomadism is mandatory and, now that even in Italy the possibility of working anywhere has been legitimized, his day begins with the race to grab the best spot in the fanciest café in town. More than a daypack, his is a camping backpack for the weekend: The North Face, Helly Hansen, or Salomon, as long as it can hold a studio, kitchen, and temporary library. The specific weight is considerable, with the consequence that many freelancers develop back problems well before their thirties.

The sustainable alternative for granola types

An extreme form, very common especially in Milan, is that of the creative who goes running at five in the morning and divides weekends between clubs and hiking: for them, a camel bag that can hold a phone is enough to already be able to work. Making the picture even more recognizable is the eco-conscious warrior, whose professional field ranges from architecture to psychology to start-ups and public institutions. They stand out for the bright colors of their backpack – often Freitag or Patagonia – and for their strong social awareness: every choice is deliberately conscious and serves to remind everyone that even everyday objects are political acts. This last category also includes those who, even without making any choice at all, say a lot: such is the case of those walking around with the backpack gifted by a distant aunt, perhaps a former scout, who had a spare one left from an old trip.

The business class bag of Milan

On the opposite side of the last category lies the business class bag, made of gigantic backpacks that almost always remain empty. Footballers, shop owners who resell sneakers and watches, restaurateurs, and provincial entrepreneurs make wide use of them, preferring Bottega Veneta intrecciato or Louis Vuitton monogram. Inside you’ll find an e-cigarette, some documents for the accountant, and a toiletry bag, because you never know where you’ll be sleeping at night.

The backpack that never leaves the permanent job

Then there’s the sentimental relic, perhaps the most romantic specimen: an Eastpak destroyed by time, worn down at structural points, yet impossible to abandon. It continues to live alongside its owner, a silent witness of small-town stories, distant friends, and terrible exes.

Finally, going beyond the five canonical categories, appears the antagonist: the 48h model tote bag, reserved for the bravest. Inside you’ll find lunch, a change of clothes, a computer – strictly without a protective case – and everything needed for a spur-of-the-moment interrail trip. In all its forms, the backpack is not a simple accessory, but a real business card, a perfect synthesis of its carrier and their typical days. In a world where everything is branding – even the body and career – the backpack becomes an unspoken logo.