I had this gem, a burgundy Celine Box Bag, sitting in the back of my wardrobe for a while now (two years). This bag is one of the many remnants of my brand-and-status-obssessed corporate marketer days. Back then, I justified each bag purchase as a ‘reward’ or a milestone when, in fact, I would pour over bag review blogs and forums endlessly, mulling over the pros and cons of each bag. The excitement was built in the anticipation of the act of acquiring the bag, which quickly faded away as guilt would set in. Guilt promptly gave way to anxiety with each use, as the fear of a scratch or scuff took away what I thought would be the joy of having a beautiful bag. Instead, my attention would turn towards the next new, shiny thing.
It seemed like an endless cycle: each purchase was more expensive than the last. While I dreaded each workday, I sunk further into the bag forums and clocked up more hours of bag unboxing videos.
Back to the Celine Box Bag…
Before I bought the bag, I read that the buckles on the straps were so sharp that it was likely to dig into my shoulders, catch on my knits and scratch the bag. It didn’t help that the smooth box leather was prone to visible scratches. That might’ve been enough for any rational person to dub the bag a design flaw, but I dutifully turned over my money like I was sacrificing to the fashion gods. In truth, I was obsessed with the design. Yet, you’d think that after getting the bag, I would proudly use it daily. In truth, before today, I had only used the bag a handful of times since I got it over three years ago.
Each time I wore the bag, I had to check the weather was fine (no rain) and where we were going (no greasy kitchens. Every time I placed the bag down, I had to make sure the sharp buckle edges would not come in contact with the bag (advice from the bag influencers). It became a nuisance. So there it sat quietly at the back of my wardrobe while my Everlane and Longchamp totes went everywhere with me.
Oh, the irony!
Yet, something shifted in me this year. Today, I picked up my long-forgotten Box bag because I was indulging in a rare, solo shopping trip, and I wanted to feel fab and polished (mums of child/ren under 10, you know how precious the occasion was!). More than that, I needed a bag to fit my glasses, keys, wallet, Kindle, notebook and pen. The Celine Box bag’s functional size and accordion design ticked the box. There, I casually browsed the clothing racks, and my bag came in contact with the racks. I bought my groceries, ate at the sushi train restaurant, and brushed past the crowd casually and without care that my bag would be scuffed or scratched. When I got home, I put my bag away instead of pouring over every scratch and pining over its newly gained imperfection.
It was liberation, the type which had long eluded me. Today, I fell in love with this beautiful and functional Phoebe Philo creation all over again – scratches, imperfection and all!
How silly was I to buy into the culture of looking at designer handbags as if they’re crystals or artwork that needs to remain untouched and perfect?! Why was I revering a contraption that was supposed to be functional and help me go out and about? Why did I waste hours pouring over bag content and reviews by bag influencers? They have a vested interest and could never be impartial anyway!
I am so relieved that I am finally out of ‘the game’ in this season of my life. The things I value have now shifted. I’m channelling my effort into creating rather than consuming. My bags are inspirations of the joy that beautiful designs can bring. Each imperfection, scuff, scratch and flaw are marks of a well-loved and used piece. They’re conversation pieces to create connections with other people.
Perhaps…I’m at bag peace.
