What does your handbag say about you?
Sadly, I didn't feel that I was equipped to answer , so I consulted a range of experts.
Top of the list was Hello Kitty, who said that a handbag is a "mirror of who you are now".
Wise words. But then if that's true, what does my constant usage of fake bags say about me? My priceless Toy Chanel, my Pleather Fendi Spy Bag, my adorable Toy Louis Croissant Bag, to
name just a few ?
Am I just a Big Fake? A walking counterfeit?
Don't answer that.
Perhaps I should abandon the big Handbag Philosophical Questions for now & get on with what I want to tell you.
Last weekend my daughter Maeflower & her fiancé Tacitus drove up from their bijou apartment in Canberra to stay with me. The purpose of the trip was partly to take receipt of the Chanel 2:55 quilted handbag in the Large Size that I bought for her.
It was so much fun.
You know, I've always nodded & smiled whenever I've heard the old adage, "it's better to give than to receive", but it's never really made any sense to me. I just pretended it did.
And on the face of it, it doesn't. Why would you rather give something away when you can have it yourself?
But in this case, it was loads more fun to give it to Maeflower than to keep it myself for the following reasons:
1. It was totally guilt free shopping. I'm riddled with guilt. Blame my mother who loved to say that all I ever did was "take take take!" When she said it, she always made sure she said the word "take" three times for maximum effect. It worked like a charm.
2. I got to see the look on my daughter's face when she first saw it.
3. It was fab to see her walking down the street with it swinging from her shoulder.
4. I got to keep the box & the wrappings.
5. I did manage to buy myself a Chanel bracelet whilst I was in the store, so I didn't actually walk away with nothing. You can see it in the last photo.
6. Buying it was as good as going on a short holiday.
There's loads more to say & complain about.
Like, why are my upper arms, after years of boxing, still like a couple of large pork chops?
Or, how can our prime minister deny climate change when our weather is so totally weirder than it's ever been?
Or, how come I've lived this long & I still don't know where Belize is?
But I won't . I'll hop into bed & maybe dream I'm turning into a bag.