There’s the woman that’s always equipped with an oversized bag the size of a small child. You know the one. The contents are typically her cell phone, keys, wallet, makeup, brush, deodorant, perfume, flats, magazines, and sometimes even a change of clothes. She’s the woman on the go that’s prepared for anything from a broken heel to a makeup emergency, touchups, freshen-ups, and everything in between.
On most days, I am that woman. My purse and its contents are my safety blanket. My plan B…and C. Heck, I could fit the whole alphabet in there. And despite the ache it ignites on my back and shoulders, my awkward hobbling up and down NYC subway steps and the usual dive and blind patting around for my
Chapstick/Metrocard/tissues/mirror/insert-small-and-not-easily-accessible-item-here, I love the darn thing. Who cares if it weighs five pounds…empty?
I don’t. Until there’s that after-work mixer where it feels like I should have RSVP’ed with a plus one—my purse. Or that dinner date at a restaurant with seats that leave me with nowhere to hang my bulky partner in crime. I’m left wishing that the only accessory I left the house with were my wallet, Blackberry and house keys. Sometimes a big bag just becomes a big pain in the ass.
Then there’s the woman who doesn’t determine which bag she carries based on how much it can hold, but how well it coordinates with the rest of her ensemble. If that means leaving behind her back-up ballet flats and wearing 4-inch heels all day so that she can rock her new Alexander Wang satchel, then so be it. She takes fashion over function any day.
But when did toting our lives around on our shoulders really become synonymous with function…