My Purse Saga

If you remember my coat saga, you might enjoy my purse saga. However, if you'd rather not hear me ramble on about finding the perfect purse, or are male, you may wish to skip this post.

A purse is a very valuable and practical accessory in addition to being an extension of you. And when you don't have a car to rely on for storing extra clothes or umbrellas, it becomes an even more important source of storage. You never know what you may need and even though I was never a girl scout (or a boy scout?), I am always prepared.

I am envious of the women who go about their lives sans purse or with a teeny, tiny cute one. I feel like I'm always the Mary Poppins of the group, lugging around everything *just in case* someone needs it. I mean, surprisingly, I hardly ever use my Tide to Go Instant Stain Remover pen on myself, but I've saved quite a few of other people's shirts.

This brings me to the saga of replacing my purse.

The current purse made its way into my life the day before I flew to Germany. I knew I needed one, but hadn't been able to find the perfect one. On a last-minute shoe run, I came across a medium blue purse that was meant for my life in Hamburg.

It was big, not not too big. It had a should strap, but also an across the body strap. It zipped across the top. The color was a neutral blue (is that a thing?) which pushed me comfortably out of the gray zone. And when I opened it up, I saw it came with an umbrella. Sold. Too bad I didn't know that cheap umbrella would last approximately one and a half days in the Hamburg winds.

And this bag lasted me a solid six or seven months until it started to show signs of wear and tear. I rarely change purses day to day, so this was almost 200 days of continual use. It wasn't just hanging out with me in the passenger seat of my car.

I started my search in May.

And I kept searching.

I went to every single store.  I went to multiple stores of the same chain. I went into small unknown stores. I went into stores I would normally never go in. I would return to stores in two or three week hoping they had turned over inventory.

No purses were speaking to me. At least any under €200,00.

My mom couldn't even help me find one. The woman who always manages to find the best things I didn't know I needed or wanted. 

I ended my search.

But then my purse starting to show some major signs of use. I was almost embarrassed to be carrying it around.

The first Monday in August, I gave myself a little pep talk and set out for the stores.

By now, you should have realized that I am an overthinker and severely struggle with making decisions--small decisions. Coats, purses, cocktails? I need weeks and months and other people's opinions. Choosing a college or moving to a new country? I only need a minute.

I walked into C&A (I suppose it's the equivalent of a Sears or J.C. Penney) and within 15 minutes I had found a purse that was a 85% match. I decided to buy it. It was even cheaper than what I wanted to spend, so I figured I could buy another one since it wasn't exactly what I wanted.

I switched out my things and used it on Tuesday.

So far, so good.

Then on Wednesday, I started to regret my purchase.

By Thursday, my super old not-as-dark-as-they-used-to-be jeans transferred some dye to the puddy (boring) colored purse that I figured would match both my pink spring (turned summer) jacket and my red winter coat. Now I was really regretting my decision.

By the weekend, I was fed up. It just wasn't going to work even though it basically had all of the qualities I thought needed. But my slight downsize in carrying capacity was what was putting me over the edge. And a ridiculous flap option that made me never want to use my keys.

I stopped using it for a few days when I could handle using one of my smaller purses. But in preparation for the weekend, I switched back into the not-so-exciting purse.

I went purse shopping again, thinking maybe I'd like something in black.

Nothing.

I got home around 8p, the same time most stores close. I dropped off groceries in the kitchen and went to pull out my phone from the zipped pouch on the back of the purse (a must for easy phone access).

The zipper pulled off.

Are you kidding me? I returned all of my things to my decrepit blue bag.

My Saturday was already booked and stores are closed on Sunday. The stores were already closed for Friday, so I decided to prep the bag for a Monday return. Of course, this included me searching through my drawers and all of my regular hiding places. When I came up empty, I searched three garbage cans three times each. Gross. And confusing. I never throw anything away, so I was legitimately mystified for many hours.

And then I remembered that I had safely tucked away the plastic bag which still contained the receipt. Only then did things start to fall into place.

Last Monday, I prepared myself for the return. I'm generally a nice person, but I know when to be stern or mean if need be. In English. And when it comes to customer service I feel like I always need to be prepared to defend myself. Not in Germany.

The return went very smoothly and it felt freeing. I just wasn't meant to have that bag.

Tuesday came along and I found myself running around to a multitude of stores in preparation for the rest of the week. On the way back from the bus, I passed a boutique I have passed many times. I actually peered in because a bag caught my eye. I saw a bag I liked. But it was brown.

I kept meandering to the back of the store.

And then I saw it.

My purse.

It was black, but not so black. It was textured with a tint of gunmetal gray. It was big enough, but not too big. It fit over my shoulder and is projected to fit over said shoulder in a winter coat. It had a zipped pocked on the bag for a phone. It wasn't super boring. Then came the scary part. The price tag.

It was in my budget. And after locating the price tag, I also noticed that the "material" is "Chicago". Whatever that means, but I took it as a sign.

As I whipped out my credit card, the lady even showed me that it came with an extra over the body strap. I was even more sold.

She wrapped up my purchase and I smiled the whole three-minute walk to my apartment. I know that if I had seen that same bag three months ago, or two weeks ago, or even last Friday, I wouldn't have chosen it.

But it worked out like things always seem to work out.

And then I walked into my kitchen and realized I had left the milk out all day.

So ist das Leben.

Not the most flattering photo.

P.S. Thanks and Congratulations for making it this far in my purse novella.