Of Bags and Boots...

Hmm…Is there anything more precious to a woman’s heart than bags and boots? Hey I didn’t ask the men here…for they would have a volley of options…Ask a woman and she would readily comply with my hypothesis which should actually be backed by scientific observations and universal conclusions. By bags I mean those lovely complimentary tit bits and sometimes even the overalls that adorn our delicate shoulders and miniatures that get clasped in the tender grip of our palms or rather let’s say we add to their beauty…the sling bag, the clutch, the tote, the purse, the carrier and many other manifestations of this quintessential necessity for the fairer sex. And by boots please take into account the flats to the wedges and pumps, the tie-ups to the stilettos, the strappy bare-alls to the belle, high end boots to slip-ons and sandals and limitless other avatars. We love to boot and boot up.

I noticed the first signs of this fetish behavior, years ago, when I was walking across a show window in the busy, buzzing lanes of a market and a beautiful specimen of human creation in wedge heels and crocodile skin black leather, with just about the right amount of embellishments to save it from being termed as ‘over the top’, stared right across at me in the most longing of a glance that said, “Pick me up, hey pick me up”. And surely as magnanimous as I am with poor souls/soles that need my timely assistance, I obliged, causing my face to break into a big smile and my little bounty into a big hole. But the possession of that wonderful pair of sandals to stylishly complete the extreme tip of my body with a sleek edge was an experience of unadulterated satisfaction, almost a catharsis of sorts!

So there began my love affair with shoes, that time and indulgence seemed to have blossomed to its full splendor. God in his great designs of mischief has bestowed me with soft, beautiful, fair and shapely hands and feet (never mind his negligence in doing so with the rest of the body)…so that whenever I try something on my feet, it conspiringly looks stunning, if it is even remotely worth its mettle. So I am left helpless with no alternative but to pick it up from the shelf. Most pieces practically scream at me that we were made for each other as the lyrics of this song come alive in the backdrop…“hum bane tum bane ek duje ke liye” …and when fewer men substitute in doing so instead, you just have to succumb!
Thereby I have always had just a drawer full of meticulously picked exclusive bargains, and I deliberately never allowed that space to be enlarged for fear of immoderation that I may never be able to resist.

Although in all fairness, maybe extravagance and age…oops…I mean maturity, has brought about a steadiness and thankfully the wisdom to buy now only that which is a must-have only by normal human standards or qualifies in the category of love at first sight. I still swoon and get floored by the sections that herald “new arrivals” or “50% discount” but then prudence helps me walk down the aisle without a sheepish stance. I have now managed to withstand temptation after realizing I have three pairs each of black, white, bronze, silver and beige and with God as my witness, let me assert here that they suffice even in the biggest of crisis. (See I don’t go about matching my garbs with all variants of colors…I am a selective and sensible buyer despite all the impression that I have provided herewith). I have my little treasure in stones and swaroskis, in ethnic and modern variants, in suede and jute, in straps and shoes and of all sized heels possible. Hence the malady for now is under control and thankfully my drawer space reminds me to keep things in check for I would rather die than stuff beastly all these little wonders in a cramped up space of suffocation.

Hmm…and coming to purses…imagine the striking apparel, the appropriately used accessories, the perfectly suited stilettos and hairdo that charms with every lock…yet hands so bare and open, with nothing to hold on to…tch, tch and sob, sob. What a tragic waste!

And hence the relevance of the ladies purse! Imagine again guys, your little Blackberry and how it serves by giving you the world in your palm! Such is the purse for us…we can never dream or dare to leave our humble abodes without them. So as an obligation upon all you guys who always wanted a sneak preview of ‘what IS in our bags’, here’s a guided tour. Depending upon the size (for my dear friend, anywhere and everywhere size does matter), it can carry for us all our lethal weapons of mass destruction to our first aid kits of self appraisal, to our emergency relief tokens, to our bare essentials- the license (driving waala yaar, not license to kill), the cards (invitation waale nahi oye, the credit cards, membership cards, etc), the make up relievers, the cell phone, the hair brush, the pads and pens, the wipes and cleansers, the errands reminder list, medicines to pop, precautions if we get to hop and even technical gadgets like the I-pod or the camera…not to mention loads of dough to keep us going on and on and on. Hence the purse is just not functional, it is the very prop upholding our exterior demeanor of impeccable perfection and sanity.

Hence my dearies, it is equally crucial to stock up these bags in all shapes, sizes and utilities (does it strike a similarity with the guys we have in our lives…mmm…purely coincidental and unintentional). So whether it is branded or local…made from genuine leather or faux off-the-street style, we must have them all to match up to us on all occasions.

So next time when you want to score big time with us, please don’t attempt to open your mouths…just open your benevolence and take us shopping for bags and boots…and maybe, just maybe you may not go wrong this time!