I feel like a hypocrite, because when anyone asks me about carrying something fragile or light-colored, I always tell them that bags are meant to be worn – and they are. But I have to be honest, when it comes to some of my favorite luxury bags, I’m afraid to carry them. It’s not every bag in my collection, but there are a few special ones that I tend to hold off on carrying for what I deem “special occasions.” They’re bags I’d never take on a plane or to run errands or for any form of everyday use. I tuck these bags into their dust bags and boxes after I use them and only turn to them when I think I can carry them and treat them nicely.
These bags include: my Hermes Birkins, my calfhair Celine bag, an exotic bag from The Row, my pristine Chanel 2.55 and more. These are bags I treasure, each has its own story, and I never want to treat them poorly. But carrying a bag shouldn’t equate with treating it poorly, so why do I end up feeling that way? Part of it is the price of these bags. The more a bag costs, the more likely I am to baby it. Another factor is the materials used; when it comes to my Celine Trapeze, I worry about ruining the calf hair as it rubs against my body. If you pair my trepidations with living in a busy city, where birds are flying around, rain seems to come without notice and millions of people are around you at all times, it sort of makes sense why I worry a bit.
In the past few months, I’ve forced myself to use my “nice bags” more frequently and with more ease. I’ve been doing a good job at it, though when a scuff ends up on my bag, I find myself cringing (which is an entirely different post). I think much of this reaction comes down to how I was taught to treat the things I own; my parents instilled a level of appreciation and respect for items that we had. Plus, I’m really anal about keeping my bags looking good.
I must not be alone in this, there must be plenty of you who buy certain items and save them for special occasions, or maybe you saved up for months to buy a certain bag, and now it rarely leaves the comfort of its dust bag. I can tell you that I sympathize with you, and I struggle with the same thing at times. I still end up putting my nice bags away and get a little skittish over the thought of anything happening to them, but like I always tell others (and myself), bags are meant to be carried and loved.
Do any of you have similar experiences? Share with me below!