Yet again, I was the odd girl out...shoes just didn't move me. I knew a good-looking pair when I saw one, but joy was nowhere to be found.
A pretty purse, however, always made me smile.
In my innocence, I had not realized that you can obsess over purses. I thought we ladies were pretty much limited to shoes, lipstick and sunglasses as designer fetish objects. Silly me! I should have known...and I think, in some corner of my soul, I did...that Purse Blog was out there.
(Why, you may ask, am I blogging about purses at 3am? Well...if you woke up from a dream where one of your feet was amputated and you were in a brothel, with only a scarf-width afghan to cover yourself, limping desperately along in search of a client who was gay, but you had to make him want you anyhow--missing foot and all--because you really really needed the money....and you ran into your dad....what would YOU do?)
(Well, yes, I know, and that would be very sensible, but we don't have any whiskey in the house. So: purses it is.)
Never having pursued my love of purses in any kind of organized way, I needed--and from this blog, got--a real crash course in contemporary handbag style. I have learned the following things.
1) My god, they're huge. You could practically get in some of these bags and drive them down the street.
2) Fortunately, there are exceptions.
3) Except for clutches, many bags seem very bulky and busy to my eye, with lots of hardware.
4) Fortunately, there are exceptions.
5) Pink, a color that pleases me inordinately, is in terribly short supply.
6) Fortunately...well, you know.
I especially love this delicately hued Bottega Veneta, which also has a lovely shape. The wistful shades of pink are my favorites. Like these. If someone would make that YSL catwalk bag, particularly the medium flap one in soft textured leather, in pink the color of a whisper...
...I would go right straight back into that dream, shove my dad aside, and keep knocking on doors (they were old and paint-chipped) until I found my man. "You have to understand," I would say. "It's the kind of pink that would make a poet cry!"
And he would.
