A self-confessed bag lover, I have often been the butt of ridicule for my (not-so) strange obsession. My only point of defence is that I only have some ten bags, as compared to women who have closets spilling over with them, and are perpetually on the lookout for yet some more to add to the loot. Oh boy! Don’t I just turn a not-so-pretty emerald shade when I think of those closets, and how I would gladly give an arm and a leg to get my greedy hands on one of ‘em Vera Bradleys, Louis Vuittons, Mark Jacobs, Pradas, Fendis, Chanels, Guccis, Diors – Mmmmm.
And ohhh, it’s such a wondrous pleasure to walk into a shopping section, better still, a glitzy showroom, brimming over with bags, purses, clutches, totes, satchels, of all shapes and sizes, hues, patterns, fabrics – you name it – they probably have one that you wanna “bag.”
The average British woman slings a bag that weighs approximately 5.2 pounds. Into it, she probably dunks her mini-world (Read fume, emergency hair products, wet face tissues, keys, change, wallet, those monthly supplies, Oh, did I forget gloss, mascara, and other goop she applies on her face. Phew! Now what have I missed?).
Friends call my bag a Pandora’s box – dig into it, and you’ll probably find a half-eaten bar of chocolate. Dig even deeper, you might find gum, different kinds of stationery products; for those luckier, there could be everything from earrings to switch blades, mini lotions and the odd fruit face pack sachet.
Just as a woman’s moods change, so do her handbag. So just when you get used to the red monstrosity she insists on carrying with her everywhere (including the rest room), enter she does the next day, with a teeny-weeny white clutch, clasped in her left hand, leaving you wondering what she could carry in it, barring a lipper and a pair of keys. Thank God that the red eyesore was shelved – that’s your only refrain. However, your prayers were premature, cos the next time, she is armed with a huge (big would only be an understatement), straw bag, in a rich brinjal shade, leaving you cringing, and making you wonder if she carried a twenty pound bull-terrier in it – it is that bulging.
And boy! if she’s the sort to make you carry her bag when she’s tired, may the Gods be with you! Be prepared to receive smirks from passing strangers…
Coming back to the topic, going bag / shoe-shopping is one of the highlights for us women. Skimming the daily for half-price bag sales is a perpetual hobby. Even better if our favorite showrooms have them on discount. Entering one of these places is like getting a new high. An hour later, we emerge, clutching a coveted trophy victoriously. Men would never understand our bag-fetish. For them, one black / brown wallet is more than enough for an entire year.
No wonder they roll their eyes dramatically every time we utter those words – “honey, I’m going shopping for a bag.”
Their silent groans couldn’t be more audible…;-)
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