When I first met my man there were two things that impressed him most, firstly my uncanny knack for randomly being able to identify the make and model of any classic car… Like your dad, and secondly my collection of handbags.
Upon moving into his 1970’s style beachside apartment (I was living in a share house that was, let’s say more streetside than beachside), my only prerequisite was a wardrobe. Quite a humble and achievable request and one that he was more than willing to offer in exchange for some kind of future long-term girlfriend commitment… Didn’t take much to get me across the line did it?
Fast forward to the now and my obsessions for accessories (and large wardrobes) has not changed. Rows of somewhat neatly stacked loafers, piles of vintage jewellery and shelves of clutches cloaked carefully in their drawstring dust covers, take up nearly all of the space in our wardrobe. Something that he may not quite find THAT charming anymore.
So these days I’ve become quite conservative in my ways when it comes to the over-hoarding of handbags and other hardware. A bag needs to be clever or cool AF, or both, to capture my curiosity, like this Stella McCartney baby that I snivelled from Farfetch for instance. A clutch one day and a bucket bag the next, small enough to dance to Yonce and large enough to carry my iPhone and all of that other girly shizzle.
So if you’re anything like me and you’re running out of space in your boyfriends’ wardrobe, then this is the bag for you. And for future reference, it might be time for a bigger closet or maybe even a new boyfriend with a bigger closet… The best of both worlds… Am I right?