I am often told “Oh, yeah, and I would totally wear this [look] with a va-va-voom bag!” (not necessarily in these words, but you get my point) as if the bag is supposed to bring that special sprinkle most of us wish for in our outfits, as if “I am super classic and stuff, but hey, I also have this crazy part embodied by my purse“, as if the bag is going to do the walking, not the owner of it.
And few people really love a piece of fashion which lives on its own, has personality that inspires not just one generation, but two or three or four, is one of “few people”‘s best friends. I am totally in for the thrill, you piece! A thrill with no pressure when talking about fashion, though.
Bags are our secret confidents. Collectors of our memories. If only bags could talk. They would tell you “Hey, find me a lover!“, or “Hey, this is a crowd!“, or “Someone partied hard last night, muhaha!“, or “You naughty, naughty one!“.
But they don’t.
Wearing an extraordinary bag – literally, extra ordinary – is not the easiest one can do and just throw onto whatever. Though, of course, you are your own designer, so do whatever the f it is that you want. But. A bag is going to be sad. Boo. It needs a partner in crime, an extra ordinary better half represented by just about anything from hair to skirts to socks.
Just like in love. Followed by Sienna’s smile below.
So you either go safe till the end and when being safe, don’t stress an it bag to do the “dirty” work, or you go “wild” and you be the partner of your “bag in crime”, by matching the it bag to, at least, one more it thing and then beat it!
A bag, on the other hand, may also be a friend to help you wake up to reality – if you ever feel like it. Like this honest bag below does.
Open your eyes and feel a little. Touch things with your eyes. Ouch. If it feels right or, even better, super wrong and you totally in it, feeling it, then it is it!
You with me?
The prize for the queen of “it bags” goes, undoubtedly, to one of these fashion enthusiasts:
Anna Dello Russo
Bags, you will forever be my best friends, you know too much.
I could bet I heard one of mine muhaha-ing from the wardrobe.