The Bag That Is Eating My Brain


The economy is in the shitter, people are getting laid off left and right, I can’t stop thinking about a purse. A bag. Which costs $1,495.

I will never buy said patent leather handbag, designed by Alexander McQueen and called the “Elvie.” Not only because it is ridiculously, exorbitantly priced, but also because it is sold out. Oh, if you have $2,160, you can get it in green, if you dare. Not that you should. Not that I would. But for some reason, I cannot get this bag out of my brain.

I’d like to say that it’s just a harmless crush. Except the other day, I saw a woman walking in my neighborhood with a bag shaped rather like the Elvie and my body went tense. “Does that bitch have my bag?” I thought to myself, before remembering that I was being insane. But why, why do I think about this bag so much?

Maybe it’s because — and this has been well-documented — I love bags. Maybe it’s because, now that I work from home and don’t have to lug a bunch of crap back and forth to an office everyday, I miss the ritual of packing a bag, of preparing your “necessities” for your daily journey. Maybe it’s because I recently got this retro dress, which I feel very strongly needs a retro-looking old-lady pocketbook to go with it. (Yes, I’ve tried eBay.)

But actually, I think that sometimes when my brain gets fixated on some unattainable, inanimate object, it has more to do with needing a mental break. It’s about fantasy, and dreaming, and being attracted to things that are pretty and/or shiny. Every now and then, I open a web page and stare at this bag — my bag, though I do not own it — and sigh. And then it’s back to work. Please tell me you’ve been there.

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