What I really hate about carrying a purse is when I’m with someone who doesn’t have one. Inevitably they ask me to put their stuff in my purse.
What do I look like? A pack mule?
Don’t answer that.
The zipper on my last purse broke, probably because I put too much junk in it. Right now I’m running around town carrying nothing but my wallet. I got it for my 21st birthday during a shopping spree at the Marshall Field’s in downtown Chicago. (Love that store!) The wallet is old and a little worn in some areas, but it’s still in great condition. Strangely, it’s the size of some clutch purses these days!
While I’m still looking for a good purse to buy, I’m hesitating. There’s a freedom in not being loaded down with a purse. I was actually considering not getting another one when I came across this tidbit in Nina Garcia’s The Little Black Book of Style:
“The handbag only became a female accessory at the beginning of the 1900s. Before that only men carried a purse, and if a woman wanted something, she had to ask him for it.”
So all this time I’ve seen carrying a purse a burden, when instead the handbag is a symbol of independence.
I am so getting a purse. The bigger, the better.
