Tonight our reviewers are taking a look at our final three purses and their purse-analities. But first let me share one more interesting piece of research that I dug up regarding purses and their content: the comparison of a typical purse content in 1945 compared to 2012. In 1945, a purse’s contents included: one lipstick; a compact; one fresh handkerchief; a package of letters; the laundry bill; three tickets from the cleaner; one nylon stocking to be repaired; one address book; one pack of cigarettes; three packs of matches; one leather picture folder; white gloves; ration books (including expired ones); several cards with addresses of a furrier, a wholesale place for children’s coats, a beauty parlor, a graphologist, etc.; two scraps of paper with telephone numbers; one hairnet; one bottle of vitamins; three samples of slipcovers; one fountain pen; two pencils; and one parcel of V-mail letters covering several months and held by a rubber band. In 2012, the typical handbag holds: an ATM card; cell phone; change purse; checkbook; crumpled tissues; hand cream; hairbrush; keys; lip balm; nail file; makeup case; pens; wallet and credit cards; gum; lottery ticket; bottled water; Kindle; paperback book/magazine/newspaper; shoes to change into at work; umbrella; gym clothes; and multiple children’s items. While the times may have changed, it seems that women’s purses still reflect the many roles they play throughout the day.
Now, without further ado, let’s move on to our purses and their purse-analities. Please welcome Baglioz Aristocat and Purceval Grail as they review sweet Sendi’s purse.
Baglioz Aristocat: I have to love Sendi! Anyone who carries Mickey Mouse diapers and alcohol in her Louis Vuitton purse has totally stolen my life-long love. The thermometer throws me off a little because I have to wonder how suddenly one comes down with a fever. Sendi is obviously well loved, as she has a bevy of birthday cards. I guess she is well loved if her birthday has been within the last week, a little less well loved if she’s been carrying these cards (and the b-day alcohol) around for months. I also love that Sendi is not a conformist. She carries a Louis purse but an Aigner wallet. It would appear that she is a jack-of-all-trades.
Purceval Grail: Hello, nice bag. How you doing, good looking? I have been looking for you my whole life. What are you doing in the kiddies’ neighborhood? You must belong to a young mother. From evidence that even I can deduce, you belong to a baby’s mother. The child must be pretty young, as the new mother is still using you, a really nice, expensive bag to carry around spit-covered baby bippies. I can also tell she’s pretty new at the mothering gig because the bottle of booze is still mostly full. Wait until that kids gets to the teens. She’s going to need a frozen margarita machine running 24/7 to numb her out of that. You’ll be hung on a rung deep in the closet as a reminder of happier times, when style still mattered.
The funny thing about kids is that about the time they get to be people—I mean real individuals with their own worthwhile ideas—they don’t want to tell them to you. They cling like a sock to a winter sweater for 15 years or so and then suddenly they are moving 100 miles an hour in one direction—away from you. Sure, eventually they come back around. Somebody has to pay for college, right? They’re like kittens, all cute and cuddly, but they will one day be cats, and then hell is coming. Knowing that the worst vice is advice, I’ll still throw you some: Enjoy them while they’re young.
Next, reviewers Baggeroo Banzai and Lady Bagzella Tremaine will take a look inside Patty’s purse.
Baggeroo Banzai: This bag looks totally casual. That is not to say ragged—just kind of everyday fun. I like the interesting design on the inside. I’m guessing this person has a green thumb, or wants one. (Giveaway: The water jug in the corner). An interesting dichotomy, because the book is titled For the Love of Cities, but the bag is definitely about greenery. Maybe the book is about the need for more plants in cities? Or maybe it’s just about loving Mother Earth. She has been getting a bit abused lately. Are you driving a hybrid? Is there a loom in the next room for making clothes?
Also, I wonder if is there some need for this person to cover the spectrum? Candy apple red, lemonade pink, tan, lime green, cool mint green, forest green, turquoise, blueberry blue and black are all represented. I would go into further detail, but the man code prevents me from noticing more than 10 distinct colors at any one time. I’m flirting with losing man points for noticing three greens. Despite the varied colors, they all seem in keeping with a natural vibe.
Anyway, it’s a cool green bag and seems a bit fun. Water the ficus for me!
Lady Bagzella Tremaine: Must say, the pocketknife is an interesting touch. Perhaps the first purse I’ve reviewed that had anything except plastic cutlery in it. I wanted the knife to be a multi-functional 25-accessory Swiss Army knife. Imagine my surprise when I enlarged the picture and searched like I was looking for Waldo until I finally found the tiny little excuse for a knife. I feel like Crocodile Dundee because I want to say, “That’s not a knife.” I’m also a little confused by the Kindle that she carries with her, presumably to read, and then the actual book in the bag also. When I saw the iPod I kept looking for an old transistor radio too. The bag is big, but there is not much actually in it. I suspect the owner did some clean out work before taking the picture—which is totally cheating. However, what she left behind left me full of questions about what kind of person she is. I need more from this woman of mystery.
And last but no means least…the travel purse of our saucy Aussie, Antoinette, who just returned home to Melbourne after a five-week holiday in Europe will be reviewed by Ferdinand Bagellan and Blanche DuBag.
Ferdinand Bagellan: The contents tell me this woman is visiting Europe. How do I know? She carrying Purell. Europe is filthy. Do you know how old it is? The people who built here came from there. Our country is almost 236 years old—the same age as their toilets. Here’s a tip: Double down on the Purell! The real clue is the “la freccia” logo, which means “arrow” in Italian. (Thanks, Wikipedia!) That place is even older. Europeans think that place needs a good cleaning. The Ities (Pronounced I-ties, which I got from watching many movies) actually have a city that has no toilets—they just have running water in the streets. I’m told it’s beautiful, especially when it’s downwind. I also love the sensibly sized glasses for reading that say, “Look at me! I’m an intellectual!” and the oversized sunglasses that say, “JUST LOOK AT ME, DAMMIT!” This person is no stranger to technology, with the flash drive ready to go into any available USB slot. (No, this is not a sexual reference!) The odd item to me is the little notebook. What’s in that little thing, I wonder? Ah, a woman of mystery! That’s it—leave something to the imagination. Just don’t leave the key (that looks like it fits into the lock) in your purse. Bad things, man. Bad things.
Have fun, fly safely and for God’s sake, don’t drink the water!
Blanche DuBag: From Australia and off traveling Europe for five weeks? As the old lady in When Harry Met Sally said, “I’ll have what she’s having.” I don’t even feel qualified to have a say about this one…but I’ll give it a try.
I can’t make out most of what’s in the picture, but I do see a wallet, some hand sanitizer, and what appears to be a women’s restroom sign that I suppose could be hung on the outside of a strange bathroom door to let them know a lady was inside. Is this what people who travel need to bring with them? I see no passport, or reading material for a long train or plane ride. No mints or gum for stale breath. No snacks to tide them over until the next stop. No earbuds or headphones to listen to the Rosetta Stone lessons for all the foreign languages. Not even a travel-size deodorant to combat…well, you know what it combats. I suspect she must have a travel tote that holds those essentials. After all, who wants to be weighted down with breath mints when traveling from museums to cathedrals? I may need to contact this wise world traveler for some quick lessons and pointers before my vacation this sunnier.
It’s a snap. That concludes our purse-anality review. To all of those who dumped out your purses and shared your purse-analities and for those of you who took the time to write funny, witty and sometime borderline reviews, Odd applauds you purse-fusely!
Odd readers, what’s next? Kitchens, bedrooms, shoes, medicine cabinets, closets? Do share your thoughts….Odd Loves Company!