Thursday, December 2, 2010


Look out people, Carolyn is a very grumpy girl today. . .

One of my favorite bloggers, The Creative Junkie, posted a very funny blog yesterday.  It was about how she is so indecisive when it comes to making decisions on buying clothes and things for herself.  I laughed till I snorted coffee out of my nose.  And although it hurt like hell, I was also a little bit thankful, because it was minty and helped clear my sinuses out.  But I digress. . .

Anyway, one of the things she bought during that whole Black Friday thing (which I avoid at all costs, but now I feel guilty because I didn't do my part to contribute to getting our economy back on track) was a designer bag.  Like an adult bag.  And I'm so jealous I could spit.

I have always wanted a designer handbag.  A GROWNUP purse.  I have never once owned one.  All my bags come from (oh gosh this is so embarrassing), Target.  Or Kohls.  Or some other pathetic store that wouldn't know a designer handbag if it came up and poked it in the eye.  Oh wait.  Stores don't have eyes.  Well the buyer for those stores wouldn't know if a designer bag came up and poked him in the eye.  And notice I am saying that the buyer for Target is a guy.  It must be.  Why, you ask?  Because if the buyer were a girl THEN TARGET WOULD SELL DESIGNER HANDBAGS.  Can you tell I'm bitter?

It's sad when I go purse shopping.  I only go once every ten years or something.  And I only go when my previous purse either breaks, or when I finally notice that it is filthy and looks absolutely horrid.  So I trudge over to Target.  Don't even get me near the nice malls, because all I'll do is hold my broken or dirty purse in both hands and drool all over the beautiful Coach, Guess, and Kate Spade bags.  Then security will ask me to leave.  So like I say, I hike my ass over to Target and I start looking at all the bags.  And because I only ever buy one purse at a time, I immediately cancel out any of the at least semi-cute colorful bags.  Because I need either a black or a brown bag.  So that it goes with everything.  And so that it hides dirt well. 

I look through and try to find one that is genuine leather.  I am usually unsuccessful in this because, don't forget, I'm in Target.  And if I do luck out and find a leather bag, it's more than the twelve dollars I am willing to shell out for it.  It'll be like fifteen dollars.  Whoa.  Slow down there, Nellie.  Don't want to break the bank or anything.

I finally find a bag (it's usually black), and guess what?  It looks amazingly similar to the broken or dirty black bag in my hands.  Sigh.  Go to the register feeling depressed.  Take black bag home.  Switch contents over.  Repeat in ten years.

So, I admit it.  I totally want a really super nice designer handbag.  And not the smallest one in the store because that's all I can't afford.  (Yes, I said can't afford.  Because even the micro-purse would probably go on the credit card.  And that's just a big no-no in this house.)  I want a nice decent sized bag.  Something like this:  My Dream Handbag.  Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Did you see how much it was?  Holy cow!  OK, maybe I'll take the black one.  It's almost $200 less.  And it would go with everything.  But still.  I totally want one.  And honestly.  It wouldn't have to be a Coach bag.  I'd be happy with almost any grown up, real purse.  With faux nothing on it.  As long as it looked like it was in style and could have been bought somewhere other than Target or Kohls.  Just sayin'.

So to my Creative Junkie friend, I hope you enjoy your lovely bag.  Think of me from time to time when you go to open it.  I'm off now to go into my living room and have a full-on temper tantrum.  Then I have to clean the house.  Good times.

Happy day folks!

1 comment:

  1. The purse that broke in the middle of the mall on Black Friday? That was a $15 special at Target. It replaced my $25 Jimmy Choo knockoff that I bought at the public market which lasted approximately six months before the lining ripped to shreds. We won't even discuss the smell of the interior of that particular purse. EWWW.

    I am loving my Guess purse. I love it even more because I got it at such a steal. I figure if waited 42 years for dining room furniture and 43 years for a real purse, I only have maybe another year or so to go before I score a decent washer & dryer.


Wanna say something? Cool. But I reserve the right to make fun of you if I want to.