An Open Letter to all Vintage Handbags
You are a fabulous lot. I mean look at you with your beaded fringes, glittering beads nestled in crochet, and crystals embedded in Lucite. Just like you keep telling us, they don’t make ‘em like they used to.
I am writing to you all to make an apology. Yes I know, uncharacteristic for a gen Y-er. But I feel I need to set something straight….
You are all used to a wonderful, sophisticated lifestyle. In ‘the golden days’ as you refer to them, you were taken to afternoon teas, where you sat in pride of place on the floral table cloth, next to cucumber sandwiches, honey jumbles and cups of Earl Grey. You swelled with pride as your owner chose you to accompany her to the annual country ball, or town hall gala. You were strung over her delicate arm as she sashayed through the crowds mingling and sipping champagne. Some of you were her reliable wardrobe staple, that quietly sat beside the typewriter as she busily click clacked away in the office. Sometimes you were paired with her favourite wiggle dress as she hit the town for her date at the cinema, and you witnessed her first kiss at seventeen.
But things changed. The number of outings happened less and less frequently. Then the moment came when you were wrapped up in tissue paper, and placed into a cardboard box, not to surface for a long, long time. You thought you would stay in there forever, nestled up against the premium quality tissue paper. But of course you were wrong.
One day the lid was opened and you looked out onto a strange new world. You looked at your new owners with disdain as they took you out to places you considered unseemly. You didn’t want to be a part of it, it was going to tarnish your reputation. You were paired with short little numbers and platform wedges!! You were placed atop the bar alongside mojitos and red bull. You were swung violently from side to side to the sounds of the Last Dinosaurs, and another night to Marina and the Diamonds. Born to Die by Lana Del Rey played over and over again from the Ipod you had to carry, and you were well and truly sick of her. You saw more nights than you had ever seen, and even a few dawns (definitely a first). You held all sorts of strange devices, and got the odd accidental spill by a takeaway cappuccino. Strange smells and sights were all around; you were placed alongside the Sushi Train continuously on Friday nights, and Tapas on a Sunday afternoon. Some of you suffered through the festival weekend, holding all the essentials in your owners tent while they donned their gumboots and denim shorts and headed out for many, many hours at a time. It definitely was not like the old days.
Well I am going to swallow my pride and apologise to you all.
You know I could have just dismissed all of this and call you all a bunch of old bags.
But I won’t lower myself…
I am sorry that we, the new generation have treated you so brashly. We fling you around carelessly, fill you full of noisy, annoying devices that we use endlessly, and we might sometimes leave the odd caffeinated or alcoholic blemish on your exterior. I know, it’s undignified.
But you can learn to love us.
By staying faithfully by our side, you will see and experience more than you ever did in your previous life. We will take you overseas. We will introduce you to many, many different people and tell your life story. We will make you the star by taking instagrammed photographs of you and showing all of our friends. If you are lucky, you will get featured in magazines and blogs. You will go to a morning tea one day, and a late concert the next. You will take comfort in the fact that we sought high and low to find you, and it was love at first sight.
So what do you say; Shall we face this world together? Lets go out for tea and cake and you can think about it while we’re there…..