I know the trend for purses calls for great cavernous swaths of leather adorned with chains and bits and such heady accoutrements that in some cultures could double as numchuks. These are essentially socially acceptable gym bags that allow us to cart more stuff than we need around with us when we leave the house.
The current reasoning in society suggests that we take every last item of necessity with us when we leave the house lest we are trapped on a subway in the middle of outright world Armageddon. I dumped my own heady baggage out onto the rug and took inventory:
Band aids, chapstick, tampon, disinfecting wipes, Powerbar, eye cream, diaphragm, the latest issue of The New Yorker, cheap reading glasses, the empty jar of NARS lip gloss that you mean to replace, samples of Chanel No. 5 which you love but which smells too strong in small spaces, a decrepit packet of Saltines, a plastic knife, Loehmann's coupons, Blackberry charger, a paper sanitary ring for a toilet, dental floss, deodorant, a dried out jar of white out, three pens which don't work, a gift card for Victoria's Secret (you're waiting for the son of IPEX), a material swatch that you really liked at the upholstery shop on 20th Street, hand wraps for boxing, three compacts, ten frequent flyer cards from ten different airlines bound together with a rubber band, a journalist notepad filled with subway observations, a keyring with 15 keys (only 12 that I can identify), a fine red calfskin wallet, my battered old Blackberry, a xerox of an article I wanted to read from Sunday's New York Times, errant paperclips and one hair band, business card from vet and printer service rep I met today, tickets to a show at the Cutting Room on Friday night, A TAB energy drink, something that looks like a really old Milk Dud, hand lotion, a bottle of Jo Malone Orange Blossom cologne, a nail file and a torn page from a magazine (in this case "W") that I took from the hair salon--the article had a referral to a URL I wanted.
Wow, that's a full bag. Good thing I am so well prepared.
3 comments:
What??? No tissues? So what happens when you go in the stall and realize there is not even one square of toilet paper?
This obviously wasn't the smart little red and tan plaid number...I seem to remember that one had the umbrella you bought in London.
You mom would be so proud that you have your diaphram with you at all time. Always be prepared!
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