Today I realized that purses are metaphors for relationships. There’s not a woman around who has had a purse and thought, “I really hate this thing.”
Back when you bought the purse though, you were excited about it. The newness, the novelty, the utility! Then you started using it and it was great for a while, but as your life changes, so does the purse you need. Sometimes, you’re lucky enough to find the perfect purse. It fits just about every single purpose and social situation. The only reason you get rid of it would be because it just got worn out.
Most of the time though, you buy a purse thinking it will finally fill that void in your soul. OK, not your soul, but keep you happy because not only does it carry all the crap you seem to find necessary to daily life (lipstick, hand wipes, sunglasses case big enough to fit a small computer in, keys to houses that aren’t yours) as well as being able to easily find all that crap which always creeps into the dark corners of every other purse, pocketbook or handbag, so that when you need to find your keys in a dark parking garage at 9:30 at night, you can actually find them before the freaking out sets in.
Also, I hate big purses. The problem is that whenever I try to carry a small purse, I end up supplementing it with a carrier bag. You know, one of those bags that are usually used for small birthday presents or given to you at Sephora when you spend $150 on make up.
Ultimately, I’m in denial that I need a medium sized purse. I end up giving in to my too much necessary crap habit.