Calling all bag ladies!

|A week before Christmas 2009 I was unfortunate enough to have my handbag stolen, from right under my nose, in a well lit restaurant, in a ‘nice’ part of town. How they managed it I will never know.

Bad enough, but the handbag in question was my prized, three week old Mulberry, which on that particular day was an Aladdin’s cave, full of my most loved accessories and trinkets.

At first I was massively relieved that my phone and oyster card, those practical life savers in times of need, were safe in my pocket. I could call help and get home. But then I remembered all the wonderful little things that had been snatched from me.

My bag for a start, I spent a long time saving for it, only to have it taken from me. I was warned to keep it for occasional use, ‘what’s the point in that?’ I said.

My quirky, kitsch, Cath Kidston, umbrella, not that pricey, but it was a gift from my sister, and a reason to smile on a rainy day. Gone.

My hobo wallet, bought on holiday with friends in America. We laughed at how we all had the same item. Now I didn’t.

Butter-soft cashmere gloves, purchased in a bargain basement clear out at a store in the highlands of Scotland. Easy to pick up more gloves, but would they remind me of chilly winter days at home?

These are all just material things, trappings of girly life. But we gals get rather attached to what we lug around all day in our bags. They are the little building blocks of our style, and our sanity which define who we are.

And I am not alone, a quick survey of my female friends and colleagues shows we all cherish out handbag contents and wouldn’t consider leaving the house without our lip balm, keyrings, favourite books, even our travel card holders have a place in our hearts.

I read reports all the time about how women should carry less junk, downsize their totes for the sake of their backs, not to mention free up more space on the tube. I believe it is important, but I just can’t. I have tried. I’ve suffered the ridicule of tipping out my sack on the living room floor with great intentions of de-cluttering.  Only to find everything goes straight back in, except maybe old some train tickets and a magazine article I have ripped out weeks before.

In our hot-desking, transient world I love knowing that I can take a few home comforts with me. Many times I have been super grateful for my gorgeous Chanel compact mirror, or my emergency stock of plasters (and chocolate).

Girls, if you have mastered the art of travelling light, I salute you. But for the rest of the bag ladies out there, good on us I say. Pack well, enjoy the rummage and congratulate yourself on never being without a hair band.

As for my long lost Mulberry. It was returned a month later by a thoughtful stranger who found it dumped on a building site. I will never forget his kindness. The contents of the bag were largely intact, if a little wet and mouldy. Thank goodness the naughty people who stole it didn’t love my high class cargo as much as I do.