by Sam
I have too many of everything; that is, I have too many of everything except money,
talent, common sense, and fast cars. I have too many clothes. I have too many winter coats
(10 at last count but they seem to proliferate unaided). I have too many pairs of boots
and trainers (five and eleven respectively but only one pair of shoes). And bags. I have
way too many bags. Bags of style.
Each bag tells a story. Each bag has hung around with me for days, weeks, or months at
a time, has an unrivalled insight onto how my life is run: what crap I collect, where I
go, with whom and how often. Each bag represents a place, a time, a phase. My big black
‘leather’ duffel bag was only £4 in a sale (down from £21,
toptastic) about
six years ago. This bag is rain-proof, and pleasantly plain and unfussy, and deep.
Fantastically deep. So deep that were it a human being it would be one of those people you
come across in pubs who know everything but are nice with it. I love this bag and it has
not got shabby which is an occupational hazard of being dragged, pushed, thrown and hurled
around. I can stuff endless amounts of… well, stuff into my duffel bag so it has been
to various places including Germany.
|
|
Trouble is, like a good man, one is never enough. So I have my leopardskin bag. Very
sleek. Bought for me for my 30th birthday after I had made several heavy hints about how
fabulous leopardskin bags were. This bag looks very slim but can easily fit: all my usual
crap (address book, diary, hairbrush, tissues, etc) plus mobile phone, leather gloves AND
brolly. This has been my favourite for over a year and has been to various places
including Brighton and Amsterdam (bags need travel to broaden their outlook). But it
really is an autumn/winter type bag. Which is why I was forced to seek out an alternative
for the other months of the year. A bag of exactly the same size and shape in blue plastic
with blue and white daisies all over it which I took to Greece. This bag came after a
stop-gap bag which was also a summer alternative for my duffel bag - the stop-gap bag is a
great big roomy black fabric bag with yellow daisies on it and is less well-traveled
although it enjoyed a weekend in Whitby last year. Its major drawback is that it is not
waterproof and I live in Britain.
You get the picture anyway. I have about twenty bags but I tend to use just one for
months at a time. Then I have a pang of guilt and get another one out and transfer
everything across (including the crumbs) and haul that around for a while. Like friends,
there are some bags with which you can always be yourself and other bags that, whilst you
like them, you feel that you are not being quite true to yourself. There is, in my head,
the constant hum of bags I have never encountered. They have particular features: I have a
yearning for one which is tan leather, big, square, smart looking with a certain sort of
buckle/zip/handle. I was once coming out of The Forum in Sheffield when I saw almost this
very same Perfect Bag pass by on the shoulder of a woman. I ran after them. "Excuse
me, where did you get your bag from?" I asked, eyes shining dangerously. I noticed
she tightened her hold on her bag a little - which I found insulting since I don’t
want her bag, I want my own. She told me where she had got this bag from but of course I
was a season too late. I saw a very similar bag being carried by someone who just
didn’t suit it only a few days ago but I didn’t ask where they had met. I know I
will always be one season too late, or I am skint, or it was handmade somewhere hot and is
one of a kind.
I read a review of Germaine Greer’s new book yesterday (which I do intend to read)
and in it there is an analogy about women and their bags, that it is a representation of
women’s burden, of the womb (I suppose like having a big red car is a representation
of a man being a dickhead). I do see the point of this argument. Why do we carry so much
about with us? Women everywhere know that the bigger the bag the more useless rubbish you
will accumulate until you are carrying round with you ancient leaflets, unidentifiable
crumpled or crumbled items, and other things which have become completely redundant to
your life. Every so often a bag is upended onto the carpet and the contents are tut-tutted
over and edited down to the minimum (which probably means throwing away two old tissues
and three old bus-tickets) so that we can top it up again as quickly as possible.
The other side of this particular coin is that you may decide that heaving a great big
bag around with you MUST BE STOPPED. So you buy a li’l titchy bag and cram into it a
tampon, a pen and a lipstick. Then you put everything else into a carrier bag and carry
them both round with you.
Last summer I noticed an unfathomable craze for teeny bags. What use are they? By
carrying round with you lots of personal stuff (photos, books, your brolly, a hat, etc)
you are not only being practical (you won’t get wet or bored) you are also expanding
your comfort zone. Take your home with you! Never be without small items to smooth your
passage in the big wide world.
You definitely can be too thin. You definitely cannot have too many bags.
Sam
|
