From Nora Ephron's "I Hate My Purse"

From Nora Ephron’s, “I Hate My Purse.”

I hate my _____________.

Or, I love my __________________.

I read Nora's Ephron's essay "I Hate My Purse"!  Really a lament and a descriptive rant on the challenges of having a purse - or rather two purses.

This expose caught me - I felt my eyes growing wider as I read on.  I visualized a powerful, talented woman carrying the "wrong" handbag for the season filled with escaped tick tacks, tissues (unclear if used or not), tennis shoes, (or maybe they were in the second purse or brief case?) spare change, lost keys, old lipstick (etc.) and other surprising and a bit yukkie stuff. 

Included in Nora's essay was a review of different types of purses from evening bag to backpack - reflecting the various stages of ones life, where and how one works and (at home or office) overall position in life. 

Of course, I am thinking and she admits - the condition of the purse (s) are a manifestation of a messy, jumbled, disordered approach to, well, everything.   A purse and its contents is a reflection of oneself right down to the possible realization that one is on the verge of being a hoarder!  The hated purse the vehicle for hoarding, or least the "holder".   


Many of us have come to accept that this favorite appendage is going to cost $500, $600 and even $2500  - since one must be on a waiting list for the $10,000 variety,  we can dismiss that one for this discussion. 

Once the "bag" and contents are described and priced, the discourse moves to "size". The thought and experience being that over time the purses becomes larger and larger.  

I took a deep breath and affirmed "I love my purse".   The cherished bag is one for all seasons, only contains the most essential articles in their own appropriate internal purse pocket,  there are no bits of dreck and drivel to be found.  It was chosen carefully, on the knowledgeable advisement of a stylish and hip  daughter in law.   In fact - a quick career and age comparison - it became obvious, I too needed a LV Handbag.   

However,  as one woman laments almost being trapped by the hated, growing in size purse and it's gathering of dribs and drabs -  I in turn, love the bag so much, it hardly comes out of the Italian leather craftsman's sleeve it was carefully wrapped in when I purchased it.  The purse is so loved, it is hardly used - I am purseless, stuffing the laptop (purse #2) briefcase until it is too heavy to carry.  

So, what does that say about the stage of life I am in?  About being organized or in disarray,  how I am and where I work, and on and on.  It seems that whether you love or hate your purse, there is messiness, and trials to go around.