I quickly posted it this morning on to my flickr photostream, but because I was in a hurry didn't bother to write a comment. JanaviNYC asked whether I had suddenly become extravagant & BeeBeeKay wanted to know the story behind the Large Designer Bag dangling from my arm like I owned it.
Both these fellow flickr travellers are familiar enough with my wardrobe to know that this bag just couldn't be mine. And they were right.
It belongs to K, another regular at 'Zinc' cafe who is a Stylish Stylist. I spied her sitting at a table nursing the bag & couldn't resist interrupting her breakfast, gushing all over the bag & then getting her to take my photo with it.
Luckily K is v. good natured & didn't seem to mind. She also doesn't seem to mind answering a whole lot of questions that I think that a Stylist should know. Things like, does she think that 'Diptyque' candles are worth the ridiculous price (No, because they no longer burn properly); is the New Re-Launch of Chanel No. 5 just the same old Cat's Wee re-packaged in a Slick Bottle (Yes) & has Tom Ford had Cosmetic Surgery (who cares?)
But back to The Bag. It has a Name. It's called The Hysteria Bag. I was immediately intrigued & felt a strong identification with it. I wonder why. Because it's mainly made of PVC with v. little leather & no extravagant Dangly Bits, The Hysteria is a steal for about $1200 Australian dollars. Apparently the designer is mining the Gucci archives & using an original logo which is the Big Knob in the middle of the bag.
This little Photo Opportunity with An Important Bag would, under normal circumstances have made my day, & it almost did.
But I had Other Fish to Fry on friday.
For the first time since he abruptly left eleven weeks ago, I met with Mr. Ex-Middleaged. You can see that I was dressed for the occasion in almost entirely one colour. Well, two colours - black & navy, a combination that would have sent My Mother into a tailspin. The polka-dot footless tights were an attempt to inject some much needed humour into the occasion.
Because I'm a naturally Self-disclosing person, I'm just aching to tell you every last salacious detail of my meeting. But I'd better not.
Just think of Princess Fiona & Lord Farqaard from 'Shrek'.