In the bag
By Jareleise Mauro
LIKE a movie frozen in mid-frame, I was in a daze. In a fetid corner in Manalili St. was the “Day Dreamer.”
The perfect Juicy Couture faux bag from China.
I knew it was such a risk to buy it. But for some reason, I couldn’t move away. All I could think of was how smashing it would look with prim pumps and chic carryalls.
I baptized her as Fifi (yes, I name my favorite bags. Jessica Simpson and I will make fast friends). She was a ready-to-wear, larger-than-life accessory with a major league, screen-siren appeal. She was an embroidered tote with velvety skin, her embouchement fashionably stitched with a fancy ribbon.
In despair, I bought it, forgetting the nugget of wisdom that it was just an imitation bag. For a short while, she was the cradle of my feminine goods. After some wear-and-tear activities though, she began to fall apart.
I thought her life span would be longer than usual. After a trip to Manila, a girl’s night out, a mall wide sale, luncheon with the office kahunas (members of the same clique), there were loose threads waiting to be tugged and the zipper got busted.
What I learned from this finishing blow: if it’s too good to be true, it probably is.
A friend commented, “there has to be a catch when a tag of an imitation bag shouts just 20 percent of its original price.” So be careful. It’s true. There is more to appearance.
The second clincher came when I was 22. With increased purchasing power, I decided to buy a bag that’s heartwrenchingly stylish, a symbol of a revolting alpha female superiority.
Noe, the beauty that brought light to my wardrobe, is designer Robert Wilson’s iconic shape. A Louis Vuitton original, it gained a lot of attention since its design first came out on Philippine shores.
“Every time you show that off, it’s just like you’re flashing a lot of bread. You must have struck it rich,” an officemate couldn’t help but notice. I was buzzing with excitement but I didn’t want Noe to get scratched or dirty so I just used it on special occasions.
Like expensive china, this product of artistic temperament was only to be admired. Noe wasn’t able to live up to its utilitarian purpose. It had spent too much time in the closet, its “IT” bag days went beyond the expiration date. Soon, her presence wasn’t as becoming as it used to be.
Lesson learned for this nine days’ wonder: enjoy it while you still can. You’re in a sorrier state if you don’t revel on what you have.
Next came Caitlin, a no-nonsense, run-of-the-mill, brandless messenger bag. To the fashion gurus, the sight of this social naysayer is as bad as a hangover.
Yet, Caitlin has one key trait–she’s soooo handy. Her lifelong dedication to containing my treasures, messy soccer shoes and my training materials has been impressive.
I’ve abused and misused her, left her in the rain, ransacked her for tons of clothes and still she goes down in record books for being a dependable buddy. But, boy, did she punctuate the night when I had to attend an emergency cocktail party to bag a huge account for our company.
My chic ensemble didn’t match the shabby bum bag. Likewise, Caitlin didn’t mingle with the kahunas over a VIP-only luncheon. She was such a fashion misfit compared to my tailored power suit.
I learned that no matter how comfortable you are with something, it has got to give in order for you to get what you want. You have to get the hang of using a teeny tote and give up bringing all your essentials just to look like you fit in a fancy party. Just as sometimes, you have to lug a drab-looking heavy attache case to a business meeting.
The trick is to work on this excess baggage for one’s benefit. (Sun.Star Cebu Weekend)