Have I mentioned that I’m going to be 50 in a few weeks? Once or twice? Oh, I wasn’t sure. The latest handbag trends have me feeling every ounce of my age. I like a good solid fad, I’ve even succumbed to a few (see article on Swatch watches). I wore the tightest Jordache Jeans and the cutest Capezio’s, in the early eighties. I was preppy (and I’ll admit I still am) through high school and college and I dashed out to Dior the minute Sex and the City debuted. I’ve carried a Louis Vuitton Speedy 25 or 30 for the last thirty years and confess to following the ladies on the Like to Know It App like a vulture.
But, I cannot bring myself to carry a transparent purse. To me, this is a fancy way of saying plastic or PVC. A friend of mine almost had me. Her writing was so good, she convinced me…maybe I could do this. No. I’m sorry to say, it brings back bad memories of my pre-divorced stint at Bloomingdales; carrying a see through plastic purse, so I couldn’t walk out with stolen merchandise. I also envision clear back packs used in schools to inhibit students from bringing in weapons. Perhaps this is some form of Plastic PTSD? I imagine a PVC or plastic Gucci, which sells for hundreds of dollars and I feel like squaring up.
Another trend is bags which have exaggerated compartments, some resembling a miniature version of your bedroom dresser in a bag. There are a few, which have extra pockets, with triple the hardware and lots of places to lose lip glosses, your cell phone and that very important piece of paper you wrote down several passwords on. Now, I’m a person who tends to carry a heavy bag, but I certainly cannot allow myself more room to stash more junk and make my bag even heavier. I’m not sure which friend of mine told me that Purse Shoulder is a real thing, but extra compartments will just add to ailment.
Crochet. I grew up with crochet, knitting, afghans, all of which seem to be a lost art. My grandmother was talented at all three and of course could wield a sewing machine like nobody’s business. Amazingly enough, all of the women from that era seemed to possess such skills. When I was little I loved curling up in a cozy afghan and adored the little dresses crocheted by Grandma for dolls. I’m a grown-up now and while I can give props to people (like my daughter), who can create with a knitting needle I will not accept a crocheted handbag. I picture unraveling and pilling. I’m probably being unfair but this is an opinion piece.
Last but not least, the Lanyard Bag. Your bag is around your neck, like a badge. Perhaps once you hit 50 you can’t take the feeling of a bag (albeit a small one), dangling from your neck. What can you possibly put in there? Some mad money and a lipstick? I know I’m dating myself because right now you’re asking your grandmother what mad money is. Perhaps this is a trend for the young set, who need a key, a credit card and a lip balm because their cell phone is in their back pocket.
You won’t catch me with the latest handbag fetish, but in case you do, don’t throw this article back up in my face. I will swear on a stack of Bibles I will not pay retail for a single one of them.
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