I have an affinity for large bags. I think it goes back to when I was a teenager and couldn't live without my backpack. Perhaps it goes further back to my Girl Scout days when I would do my best to fit everything I might need for an overnight into one bag.
The size of my bag doesn't cross my mind until I go home to visit my parents and my mom exclaims,
"Now that's a torba!" (Polish for bag) "What have you got in there? It weighs a ton!"
That's when I usually look down to the unwieldy bag hanging off my shoulder, shrug and answer,
"Oh, just my wallet, an umbrella, my notebook, the camera, my iPod, sunglasses, coupons, assorted female items, you know, the usual stuff."
At this point, I can expect a loud sigh from my mom as she begins to chide me for carrying around something so heavy and have I been taking my calcium supplements lately? I don't know what the latter has to do with any of this other than my mom being my mom.
For the next six months or so, I'll be swinging my red torba (seen above) around, doing my best not to knock anyone out. My black Kenneth Cole purse I got a great deal on at TJ Maxx back in 2002 has gotten to a point where black Sharpies can't hide where the leather is scratched or worn. Someday I'll replace that one with another black montrosity.
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