Tuesday, November 03, 2009

You Can Tell It's Mine: It's Got My Name On It

I wouldn't give you tuppence for those fancy handbags, and expensive knock-offs of fancy handbags, that are so popular these days. But one must needs have something to haul the crap around in. My sister-in-law, who is much more sophisticated and stylish than me, favours leather, grown-up-lady bags. Lily leans towards understated elegance. Rise lists towards Bohemian. Some quilting friends make their own, and have a different one for every day of the week. Which would never work for me. It's dangerous to transfer stuff, more than once a decade, from one receptacle to another. Something essential will drop through the cracks and put me in a panic.

There is one company whose handbags make me drool, but they cost considerably more than I deem reasonable for something the French call a sac. Some time ago, on the lookout for a new bag, because the one I had was disintegrating, I found one I loved at my favourite discount store, made by the company in question. For a pittance. Because it was last year's design. Well, I was designed back in the middle of the last century, and I still work just fine, so that didn't bother me. Call me an old fossil. I know what I like. Maybe it was my childhood calling to me, but this bag reminded me of schoolbags we carried our books to school in, or the messenger bag Paddy the Post delivered the letters in, back when the earth was young. It was soft and khaki-coloured. And roomy. Roomy is important, because of all the "stuff." This one even had room enough for my camera. How many times had I wished I had room in my purse to carry my camera! So I bought it. And carefully transferred all the bits and bobs to the many pockets and pouches of their new home.

Weeks passed. One day I came in from running errands, plonked my bag down on a stool in the kitchen, and put the kettle on for tea. Smelling the possibility of a cuppa, the OC wandered out from his office. Saw my purse lying on the stool, and without missing a beat said "Oh, I see you even have your name on this new bag of yours!"



He was a court jester in a former life.

11 comments:

J Cosmo Newbery said...

May he rest in peace.

aubirdwoman said...

roflo it takes one to know one, I always say.

patty said...

and you let him live?????

riseoutofme said...

No wonder he needed stitches on the top of his head ... He should be down on his knees thanking the leprekoons for sparing him ...

I hope you duly chastised him ... oh I see ... thats another post under the "unmentionable" blog?

Hmmm ...

Thimbleanna said...

Awww, darn it, aubirdwoman beat me to my reply. Thanks for the great chuckle this morning!

Tom Bailey said...

That is a very creative thought fossil and connecting with it on a personal level. It made me think that to come up with that comparison it would make the comparison void and self contradictory... Maybe?

peppermintpatcher said...

I hope he runs fast!

The Lassie said...

lol and otherwise: what they said ;)

Warty Mammal said...

J Cosmo beat me to it.

Julie's journey said...

And I bet he chuckled after he said it. I dont know - small things amuse small minds.

Molly said...

Ah. I wouldn't say he is small minded. His sense of humour is one of the things I love about him---seriously whacko!