Recovered from the Wayback Machine.
It’s that time again, and I can’t put it off much longer. I’ve managed to stretch it out seven years, but can’t go anymore. It’s gotten to the point where we’ll go out to dinner and the host sits us in the back, hidden in the shadows. Though I cringe and try to make do, there comes a point when you just have to bite the bullet and get the task over.
Yes, it’s time to buy another purse. A task I hate probably even more than going to the dentist.
I don’t like to shop. If I find a nice looking striped button front shirt that’s cool and comfortable, made of cotton that won’t shrink over much, is attractive, maintains it’s shape, and that fits my longish frame, I’ll buy four or five shirts in different colors. Same with the jeans and khakis, cords, socks, underwear. I buy all my shoes at Joe’s New Balance discount store. I have one pair of low, suede sandals for dress.
I have two pretty dresses for special occasions. I wear them so rarely, they still look good 10 and 20 years later. I don’t need any more, except some day I may invest in a long velvet skirt. For now, there’s the striking black and white print that is connected at a band around the neck, has no shoulders, a fitted waist, and a full skirt that twirls out. The second dress in an Australian designer dress, with the bright turquoise, green, violet, and pink colors in a wonderful one of a kind print, with a necktie hemline, and dropped/flapper girl waist.
I have a hand made, tailored 100% wool pleated skirt from Ireland. I have another pair of silk lined woolen pants in a discrete charcoal. These stay in their bags when not worn — no need to feed the moths.
I have a collection of close to 30 never worn t-shirts, packaged and saved for some day if I go to a conference. Some of these are probably collector items now: the ActiveX t-shirt from Microsoft, the original Mozilla t, and so on. For most, the companies folded, but the shirts lived on.
I have some lovely sweaters that are still attractive and in excellent shape, carefully put away in plastic when not in use. That’s probably why they’re still good: deep emerald green, sand pebble, lake blue.
I have all I need. Therefore, I don’t shop. It’s not that I don’t like to look good; it’s that clothes are not how I define ‘looking good’. How I feel does that.
Still, my purse is, well, worn is a kind word for it. I have one purse. It’s black. No matter what I wear, I use the one purse: one of the microfiber back saving purses from Norm Thompson. I looked at Norm Thompson for a new one, just like the old, but they’ve changed the design, and added a ‘back pack’ look to it, which I can’t stand. Searching around, I found Ameribag, which seems to have what I want.
The New Yorker looks good, and would be good for going about town. But that HB2 is a clever idea. I like the idea of a purse that can double as a camera bag, though I have three camera bags. Maybe…maybe I’ll get two purses. Yeah, two. One for summer AND one for winter. What the heck, you only live once.
Maybe I’ll even splurge on a wallet. The badge holder from the 2001 O’Reilly P2P Conference is getting a little worn.
