Truth be told, I’m not really in the market for a new bag, but a quiet weekend in with a little too much extra time on my hands – a rarity if there ever was one these days – always sees you seeking out the unnecessary. The four pairs of sandals I desperately need even though I can barely feel my toes with the winter chill, the gold and silver fine rings to delicately sit between my knuckles, or a new leather shoulder bag; because a girl can never have too many bags… right?
I’m all for forward thinking, and with that in mind, I think I’ve already found my next bag (when the time comes of course). Smooth black calf leather, structured, and with contrasting gold hardware, it isn’t a far cry from the bag I’ve held so near and dear to my heart since relentlessly hunting it down in New York. My PS11 may be looking a little wise for wear – three years of being battered and bruised will do that to a bag – though it’s far from being relegated to the archives. It is a bag that is full of memories, fragments of time, joyous occasions and spontaneous excursions, that I’m loathe to let it gather dust on a shelf for too long. Besides, change can always wait.
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