My purse
For some reason, purses seem to puzzle men, even though they are straightforward and commonplace. While I can by no means claim to possess an average handbag, I believe I can shed some light on this everyday mystery.
First, please realize that women’s clothing, being inexplicably constructed for fashion above function, rarely contains pockets. The purse, then, besides being a fashion accessory in its own right, serves as a sort of external pocket to contain the keys, wallet, and other personal effects. This much, a man of average intellect might well comprehend. Why else is it my constant companion? Let’s take a guided tour inside to demystify the rest.
My plain, black handbag, an unassuming and inexpensive off-brand, was chosen because it was about the right size for the articles I choose to carry regularly, because black goes with everything, and because it has a divided section that keeps the chaos of my personal belongings divided into neat pockets. There is a pocket for my checkbook (which I must carry mainly because there is a pocket for it, since I usually pay with cash or plastic), a pocket for my cash, a pocket for my receipts, and so on. It is like a miniature filing cabinet and has proved invaluable in allowing me to find items quickly.
In one of these pockets, you will find a four-way pen. It writes in black, orange highlighter, and pencil. It used to write in red, too, but I have replaced that position with a stylus for my PDA. The multi-use tool is a recurring theme throughout my handbag. I prefer to carry a well-chosen few tools with many uses.
In the deep center pocket, you will first find clipped to an outside ring a Leatherman multi-tool, anodized purple, my favorite color. I use this as much for the tool portions—the screwdrivers, pliers, and file—as for the convenience items, like the knife and the nail file. This is by no means a common choice. You would be much more likely to find eyeglasses, cosmetics, or trash in a woman’s purse, but I wear neither glasses nor makeup.
Also in the center pocket, I carry a moist towelette saved from a restaurant, in case I can’t wash up, a case full of business cards, a three-foot tape measure (handy at the garage sales and hardware stores I frequent), some ever-present Kleenex, and occasionally a granola bar and a tube of hand lotion, if I remember them.
On the opposite side, you’ll find a PDA that is downright old by PDA standards. It serves my purposes, though, and I choose to spare neither the money to secure a replacement nor the time to select one. In it are my address book, to-do list, calendar, and email, plus a repository of those meandering thoughts I have bothered to record and some games and e-books in case I find myself bored somewhere. In over three years of carrying the device, I have not finished more than a couple of Sherlock Holmes stories, because I seldom get bored while out and about.
There is one empty pocket, which is also an unusual feature of my purse alone. It is sized to contain a cellular phone, complete with a cutout for the antenna. I don’t really enjoy talking on the phone or paying monthly fees, so this pocket travels empty.
What I have built, through trial and error and a bit of good guesswork, is a compact but functional toolbox that travels with me and suits my needs. I have been known to smuggle entire novels into potentially boring functions. One friend of mine, who travels frequently, has a purse large enough to accommodate her laptop. Large or small, a woman’s purse reflects the woman who carries it: neat or messy, full of makeup, perhaps, or gadgets, or toys to distract her children. In any case, it carries the tools of the trade.
First, please realize that women’s clothing, being inexplicably constructed for fashion above function, rarely contains pockets. The purse, then, besides being a fashion accessory in its own right, serves as a sort of external pocket to contain the keys, wallet, and other personal effects. This much, a man of average intellect might well comprehend. Why else is it my constant companion? Let’s take a guided tour inside to demystify the rest.
My plain, black handbag, an unassuming and inexpensive off-brand, was chosen because it was about the right size for the articles I choose to carry regularly, because black goes with everything, and because it has a divided section that keeps the chaos of my personal belongings divided into neat pockets. There is a pocket for my checkbook (which I must carry mainly because there is a pocket for it, since I usually pay with cash or plastic), a pocket for my cash, a pocket for my receipts, and so on. It is like a miniature filing cabinet and has proved invaluable in allowing me to find items quickly.
In one of these pockets, you will find a four-way pen. It writes in black, orange highlighter, and pencil. It used to write in red, too, but I have replaced that position with a stylus for my PDA. The multi-use tool is a recurring theme throughout my handbag. I prefer to carry a well-chosen few tools with many uses.
In the deep center pocket, you will first find clipped to an outside ring a Leatherman multi-tool, anodized purple, my favorite color. I use this as much for the tool portions—the screwdrivers, pliers, and file—as for the convenience items, like the knife and the nail file. This is by no means a common choice. You would be much more likely to find eyeglasses, cosmetics, or trash in a woman’s purse, but I wear neither glasses nor makeup.
Also in the center pocket, I carry a moist towelette saved from a restaurant, in case I can’t wash up, a case full of business cards, a three-foot tape measure (handy at the garage sales and hardware stores I frequent), some ever-present Kleenex, and occasionally a granola bar and a tube of hand lotion, if I remember them.
On the opposite side, you’ll find a PDA that is downright old by PDA standards. It serves my purposes, though, and I choose to spare neither the money to secure a replacement nor the time to select one. In it are my address book, to-do list, calendar, and email, plus a repository of those meandering thoughts I have bothered to record and some games and e-books in case I find myself bored somewhere. In over three years of carrying the device, I have not finished more than a couple of Sherlock Holmes stories, because I seldom get bored while out and about.
There is one empty pocket, which is also an unusual feature of my purse alone. It is sized to contain a cellular phone, complete with a cutout for the antenna. I don’t really enjoy talking on the phone or paying monthly fees, so this pocket travels empty.
What I have built, through trial and error and a bit of good guesswork, is a compact but functional toolbox that travels with me and suits my needs. I have been known to smuggle entire novels into potentially boring functions. One friend of mine, who travels frequently, has a purse large enough to accommodate her laptop. Large or small, a woman’s purse reflects the woman who carries it: neat or messy, full of makeup, perhaps, or gadgets, or toys to distract her children. In any case, it carries the tools of the trade.
posted by Dvortygirl at 10:30 PM
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