Getting back on track, in all its gorgeousness (apparently, ‘gorgeousness’ is a word. Well, according to Spell Check, anyway) this bag was, and still is, inevitably flawed, bringing to light an interesting dichotomy that I am absolutely positive that many women, and perhaps men, have also struggled with: aesthetics versus practicality.
OK, so my phone will start ringing, and like Mary Poppins and her delightful bag of trinkets and treasures, I toss the contents of my handbag over my shoulder, only to find that I have missed the call, anyway. However, unlike the enchantment of Poppins’ goodie bag and the assembly of all her bits and pieces, fashionably organised within the children's room (she’s gotta’ hook me up!), I am left with a mess of miscellaneous junk scattered around me. Old lip glosses, peanut butter M&M wrappers (I would by far prefer to litter my handbag than the environment. Does my justification erase the fact that my bag is slowly becoming my own personal, mobile garbage bin? Anyone know of a fitted bin liner, designed for handbags?), coins, dust, and busted pens. This bag is terribly gorgeous, yet the practicality is closely similar to that of a potato sack - a pretty schmick potato sack, all the same.
My big, beautiful bag: a dungeon for innate objects, dirt, dust and wait.. what’s that? Something damp? Dang it! How the hell does Mary Poppins do it?!
I wonder if Peaches Geldof has the same probelm I have?