I have to start off by saying there are a handful of factors that can come into play with what I am about to discuss. As you all know, I love bags, always have always will. A bag to me is so much more than just a bag: it carries my true necessities, my secrets, and brings me comfort and peace in a way that is hard to explain, though I am sure many of you feel the same way about your bags.
When I first fell in love with bags, I was in middle school and had no money to my name, so from that point through the beginning of college, any bag that I got came from my parents as a gift. My begging was incessant, and if I did get a bag from my parents (seriously, they are saints I was so annoying and frustrating and infuriating I am sure), I cherished that bag immensely. Then Vlad and I started PurseBlog and started to make some money of our own, and I was able to save and afford bags for myself. My living expenses were minimal (I only paid $350 for rent and had two roommates in a really nice apartment), so buying a bag made sense at that point in my life, and I felt a rush each time I was able to do so.
My shopping grew from there, lusting after hard-to-get bags, dreaming and then buying Birkins (which I thought I’d never be able to do), getting on lists for hot new releases. And then I changed a bit, or rather, we decided to start a family. The minute I was pregnant, and even a bit before, I stopped shopping as much. I did delve into the world of kids clothes, but I still think I am fairly even-keeled about it—I sometimes purchase more expensive items, but also round things out with a lot of clothes from Target (I love Cat & Jack brand) and Zara for Millie as well.
While I still love my bags, I changed. I think about doctor’s bills and school and our children’s future, and it makes me a much more responsible shopper. So I was even surprised when a few months ago I REALLY wanted the Louis Vuitton Pochette Metis. I wanted it so bad I even wrote a poem about it—is that even normal? The bag is constantly sold out on LV’s website, and it’s relatively rare that a boutique gets one in stock. I put my name on lists and stalked the site every day for weeks. And then the call came in: the bag was at the store. I rushed over to purchase the bag and was so excited. I drove home with the bag next to me, and then bam, the excitement wore off.
Part of it could be that I didn’t need the bag and I knew it. Part could be that the bag is just a bit smaller than I would like (I am terrible at estimating the size of a bag unless I see it in person, and I always have been). And part could be that the thrill of the chase was better than the catch. Don’t get me wrong, I like the bag (full review to come soon), but I didn’t fall head over heels for it, either. Have I become too practical? Maybe. Or maybe that bag just didn’t fill my heart as much as others do. It could have also had a little something to do with the fact that at the time I got the bag, I was figuring out that I was pregnant and preoccupied. Nevertheless, I find that sometimes the thrill of the chase is a much bigger high than the actual purchase.