A handbag?
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his.Last year, I realised to my alarm that I was sitting on a train rummaging in my handbag in exactly the same way as my mother. I even have stuff in it which causes double-takes, such as a roll of zinc oxide tape (good for when strappy sandals start to rub, or for pretending to be Charlie from Lost*). This uncanny new behaviour means that when I decided that the perfect gift for a milestone birthday was a handbag, I could not merely pop into Acessorize and grab the nearest metallic thing (that link is to wind up Annie, btw). I instead had to find something with:
(one of Oscar's)
- the right length handles for shoulder or arm wearing, tricky when handles have gone short again
- a zip (oh, the zip was important)
- pockets of some kind
- the right colour
- the right volume
- a flat enough base so that it stands
- smart enough to be fashionable, stylish enough to be good for years
*and, btw - by the bloody way - how come his watch has changed this season? Eh? Last season he was wearing a leather cuff watch and now he's sporting a standard man's watch. Phht.
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Posted @
12:23 am
on
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
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