My New Fall Purse, or How I Met Frank

I have been searching for a new fall bag for months – I basically began the hunt not long after I found the career bag I needed to begin my new job in March. I bought that bag at my local White House Black Market after finding and then failing to purchase my number one choice from WHBM on St. Armands Cirlce in Sarasota, Florida. So, I settled for this one:



I have loved it, even though the top is too small and sometimes I think the silver clashes with my oh-so trendy gold jewelry, which I swore would never make a comeback.

Recently, I have had a torrid romance with Vera Bradley and her sassy print bags.



But when I got my new job, my Veras just didn’t seem polished and professional. I had new qualifications. This fall, my bag requirements were as follows: big, (but not huge) bright color, (possibly orange) and wide open at the top so I could cram lots of stuff into it with ease. Then I learned I would be attending a women’s conference this past weekend as part of my job and the pressure to find the perfect bag was amped up about ten notches! Most of you know that finding the perfect accessory takes time – often LOTS of time. Now I was down to a few trips into various favorite stores, with only minutes a time to look around. The intense pressure caused me to purchase this:



Notice the details: it’s big, (and huge) black, (not brightly colored) and narrow at the top. *sigh* This purse is going to be the death of me! I knew I needed something nearly tote-bag size in order to carry the things every girl needs at a weekend conference – bible, notebook, assorted writing instruments, bottled water, sunglasses, several cosmetic items and snacks. Anyone who knows me knows that my purse always contains snacks, candy & gum. Small children follow me because of this fact. This girl needs to be able to graze throughout the day! I can’t be starving while waiting for people to decide where we are going to lunch or trying to MapQuest the dinner restaurant on their iPhones.

So I grabbed this bag, this carry-on luggage, in a moment of fashion panic at my local T. J. Maxx. (Where you get the max for the minimum) I paid more than I wanted for it, but it really was the only option outside of a Michael Kors bag that I was drooling over. (I love you, Michael Kors, but I can’t afford your gorgeous designs – I have a child to educate.)

Turns out that this bag is so big it needed its own seat at the conference. Seriously. The foot room at the base of the seats at the Edward Jones Dome is almost non-existent and I was having issues just trying to fit my size 9 heels under my chair. So, my purse got its own seat. And then, my purse got its own name. Meet Frank, my new purse.




Frank and I have a love/hate relationship, but we are thinking about getting counseling, so there may be hope for us. Frank is a little too big, a little too shiny, and definitely too blingy. And what about that big “G” made of rhinestones? At first I thought I would tell people the “G” stood for grace, or God, but now I know what it really means – garbage bag. Like as in the tall kitchen size. Seriously, I carry Frank with bling turned into my body because I am horrified by the blinginess of it. This thing looks like a feed bag of some sort – I should fill it up with some M&M’s and head to the local cinema with it. (Actually, that is not a bad idea.)
So really, Frank is Frankenstein, my monster purse. Which turns out is not a bad theme for next month, so it’s all good.