
(Sorry, I know this picture is gross, but this picture pretty much encapsulates the story of my life.)
I have a new purse. I just can’t use it.
I bought it several months ago because, for one, I needed it and, for two, the purse I’m currently carrying is contaminated. The later is what inspired the purchase, although the straw bag I was (and still am) using is not exactly seasonal in the middle of December. Still, I could live with the erratic fashion statement, just not the contamination.
So I bought the bag. And it’s beautiful in all its supple, black leather glory. It’s even accented with the hottest trend right now in handbagary: ruffles – waves of black ruffles trimmed in silver. I loved it at first sight and carried it home, skipping up the driveway until it occurred to me I now had another problem.

