Handbag Whore

This is the most superficial post I think I've ever done. I have written about so many depressing things lately, that I thought today I would be all "selfish-like".

While shopping at Parisian's yesterday, I saw the handbag of my dreams. It's a Kate Spade bag similar to the one in the picture. It retails for $295. I looked at it, then I looked at it some more, but I left without purchasing it. Why, you ask? Because I can't justify spending my money on something that expensive to hold my WalMart wallet and WalMart lipstick. When I graduated college and got my first job, I bought two things. I bought a cherry red Mustang (remember this is 1991) and a Gucci handbag. The Gucci bag was over $100 at the time but worth every penny. After about a year, I got rid of both. My love for Mustangs has since waned, but I'm still every bit the Handbag Whore.

I suffer from "Responsible Mom" syndrome. It's an affliction that strikes mainly women with children. While my children wear clothes from Guess, Tomy Hilfiger, and others, I wear clothes acquired from Goody's sales. So, I pace in the handbag department of Parisian's like a crack whore pacing on a street corner. I think perhaps the looking is most of the fun. If I ever bought the damn handbag, I'd just be overwhelmed with guilt, as any good mother would.