This Blog post comes with a Warning.
A very #whitegirlsproblem warning.
If your looking for higher enlightenment this evening, this probley isn't your blog, and I'm probley not the gal to give it to you. I am however, the gal to talk to about handbags. And thrifting, and re- habbing, and doggies. But tonight we'll stick to handbags.
This week I re-visited a handbag that caught my eye within the last few weeks. I've seen it come an go and it was back at the Local Yokel Target(pronounced tar-jayyyyyy) It was a shocking shade of pink and had elbow handles AND a Crossbody strap. I'm a sucker for a cross body! It was $39.99. Yes, I typed $39.99
For those of you who Really know me, you know that I can find fashion Just about Anywhere. And I'm usually Not typically too much of a label whore. Ohh, I'm surrounded by plenty a gal who Are, however, That's Not really the fun part about it for me. Until it comes to handbags.
I think it all started with my ex. he bought me my first "big girl" bag. We were young and had just bought a condo and had our first "Real jobs". I don't even remember asking for it, begging for it, or even expecting it. But I'll never forget, opening the package, careful not to tear all the carefully folded tissue and Viola! There she was, black leather, beautiful, and the bigger model than I had expected! Not only as it a Big girl purse, it was Big! It was a day I could never forget, and from then on I could never carry a less Fabulous bag. The hardware was amazing, the stitching was impeccable and the leather just kept getting softer. I don't have that bag any longer as it made it's way to the consignment shop shelves years ago. But every once in awhile I'll visit it, or it's likeness on E bay.
As the years went on, so did the stream of purses. There were backpacks, and satchels, and totes.
There were leather ones, and sequin ones, and hand stitched ones. There were ones that were hunted down and ones saved for me by the store employees! Purse were much easier for my ex, to purchase, than doing something thoughtful. And the un- healthier part about that? I came to expect it. And my expectations grew. My ex and even P would offer that there's more money invested in the handbags I own, than there is money actually in them!! Thankfully, I grew away from him and got my own handbags.
When P an were in the early stages of dating, I even received a few from him. One of my favorites I won in a bet. We were up north and at a local bar in an intense game of pool. If you know me well enough, you know that the pool I do best is in a 2 piece, with a floatie an a drink. Add that drink to a billiard's game, and strangely, I become quite good. The heat of the game was On and we were on our final balls. We decide to make the game "interesting". Instead of betting kisses, or something cutesy like normal people, P bets a new Deer rifle, and I bet a sparkly new Red sequined number for my arm candy. Low and behold, I won!!!
So this week, when I spotted the pink number, I thought of all my past loved ones(handbags). I looked at my current inventory and even though the pretty pink one made it's way into my cart and out of the store, it never left my car. I couldn't help thinking of a scene from Sex and The City.(I know, high enlightenment here) Samantha is on the hunt for a not-so-basic Birkin. Unwilling to wait on the 5 year(or more) waiting list, she finds a dealer in downtown Manhattan that can get her one. Turns out, it was a back- alley Birkin and Carrie and her condemning comments, made her get rid of it. And I promptly returned the too regular rugsack
I still believe, fashion can be found everywhere, and the pink bag was no where near the back- alley Birkin, but this gal just can't go generic with her gear.