Coco Chanel said, ‘A woman with good shoes is never ugly.’
Indeed, a girl’s relationship with her footwear has been romanticized many times, since time immemorial. And I get it. Shoes even changed the life of Cinderella, right? 🙂
- As a preschooler I started hearing Motherhood describe my feet as “parang lagari” because my shoes don’t last long;
- I’m a klutz and natatapilok ako even when wearing flats while walking on a smooth plane; and
- I am an energetic teacher who is on her feet for 6-7 hours/teaching day
I guess that’s why I’m a bag lady. It has always been BAG > SHOES for me. Or simply because I just love bags more, no excuses.
I’ve been in love with bags ever since I could remember. My earliest memories include being extremely sad when I learned I was allergic to fur, because it was the time when furry animal bags were en vogue. Motherhood got me a furry monkey backpack (which I initially didn’t want because I am scared of monkeys, but Mom said there was no other bag that was dark in color, and it should be dark coloured because the light-coloured ones would look soiled more quickly) and furry beltbags.
Then in the summer of 1994 (I was an incoming 6th grader), I vacationed in my maternal grandparents’ place. My titas brought me to a tiangge/cedera and asked what I wanted. Amidst all the cute and pretty trinkets, I chose a backpack. It was a gray and cream plaid with hints of red. To me, it was so chic and classy. I loved it! My Tita Len was bargaining with the saleslady, but the saleslady would not give in to my Tita’s SRP version. Tita Len didn’t want to buy it and stood her ground, but she probably saw how much I loved the bag. She caved in, accepted defeat, and bought me the backpack. That night, I remember feeling giddy everytime I wake up to pee in the arinola (hehe), because I would see the bag again. While seated on the arinola, I would stare at my new bag and feel in awe of it.
Fast forward to 15 years ago. I was already working. New in the workforce. I was site manager of one of the projects of a distinguished real estate company. I was earning well, because my work required me to be cooped up somewhere far from civilization. Since I had no officemates to chika with, I got addicted to eBay and other online shopping sites.
And guess what I kept on buying.
JOKE!!! Bags, of course! I had a new bag almost every week. At that time, I was happy and very contented with XOXO, Guess, Mango, Kathy van Zeeland, and Liz Claiborne (until my friend who lives in the States told me that Liz Claiborne is used by elderly women in the US).
Around that time, I remember seeing a beautiful, I-swear-hindi-mukhang-cheap gold hobo bag being sold by the bangketa by the same sellers of pirated DVDs. It was dirt cheap, so of course I bought it. I was so happy because It was even lovelier up close! In the car, I kept on touching and smelling its distinct door. It went on until I got home. Affter a few hours, Randy rushed me to the ER because my head ached and I kept on vomiting. Looking back, I can conclude that it was because of the bag. Since it was extremely cheap, I think that its material is made of something toxic, that’s why it had a distinct odor. Probably the same material used in the cheap toys whose colours wear off (because its color also faded afterwards). So kung krung-krung man ako ngayon, it’s probably because of the toxic chemicals I ingested from that bag.
Yes, love for bags can hurt. And it can make you crazy.