I had just returned from London and I was sporting my brand new (to me, at least), spanking, midnight blue, patent leather, granny purse.
I picked my friend from the appointed spot and we chose to find a restaurant outside of Hamilton. As she settled into her seat, she spotted my bag and said, "What a great bag." Of course, she was the first amongst my friends to see it so I started describing how I had found it.
We were all at Camden Market looking through the second hand stalls when this particular bag grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let me leave the stall, heck wouldn't let me leave London, without it.
If I could describe it to you. This bag speaks to an earlier era when women carried their bags on their forearms with their arms bent at the elbow. I could envision an elderly lady walking around with this bag clutched to her bosom just in case she needed to ward off unwanted attention.
In any case, this bag seductively whispered my name. I thought it was a member of my retail therapy party calling me but when I turned they were all otherwise occupied so I knew none of them needed me. I turned again and saw the bag. I couldn't believe my eyes. The bag actually said my name.
I approached cautiously and opened the treasure. Tears filled my eyes as I examined its immaculate interior and exterior. I strode to the counter like a woman on a mission and asked the price. I was given a very reasonable figure but decided to haggle - you never know. My heart wasn't into it and I purchased my new best friend at the stated price.
So here I was trying to explain this to my friend on the way to lunch. I was encouraged by her silence and the fact that she would periodically glance at me while I was telling the story. I paused in my monologue and she looked at me. Thus egged on I continued with my loving description. Finally she looked at me and said, "Are you still talking about this bag?"
Somewhat dejected I felt that perhaps I had waxed a little too poetic about my recent acquisition and decided to change the subject.
I have since tried to regale other friends with the story of my purse but being non-bag-loving plain folk they can't appreciate the significance of my find. They can't share the joy and excitement I feel every time I pick up the bag.
Despite the fact that nothing in today's society fits in it, I was forced me to reduce what I carry around with me. I have taken my cell phone out of it's carrying case. I am now carrying a minimal number of lipsticks in the bottom of the bag (seven). I can't get my camera in the bag, with or without the case. I had to change wallets to something smaller and more slimline. I have a pen and I think that's about it.
I still love my excellent find and I encourage you to ask me to show it to you and share with you the adventures we have had since we have been together. If there is enough of a demand I will be happy to post a picture of this exquisite wardrobe accessory.