Real Talk

I Have Too Many Bags, and I Refuse To Part With Any of Them

The epitome of not a real world problem, just a 'me' problem

The problem I am facing now is one that I used to dream of facing when I was just starting to fall in love with designer handbags: Being surrounded by such countless bags that even my closet couldn’t fit them all. That is the issue I am having right now. Simply put, I own way too many handbags. I know the first question you will want to ask me is HOW MANY MEGS. I don’t know, I don’t have an exact count. Probably over 200, if I count every single one, but I don’t know how many over 200. I actually don’t even want to know.

I know you may be sitting there trying to do the math…it’s a lot. But it’s not like I own 200 Hermès bags or Chanel bags, it’s a mix of bags I’ve acquired and been sent as gifts over the past 12-plus years. I don’t use the majority of them; they are just collecting dust, but I simply cannot let them go. The idea of parting with almost any of those bags makes me want to squeal a little bit, and when Vlad suggests it (because he does from time to time), my immediate reaction is NO LEAVE ME ALONE. I’m like a child when it comes to my bags.

So why is it that I have this issue; what makes me not want to get rid of a single bag? I think a major part of it is that each and every single bag I own holds an important part of my life and memories. When I started PurseBlog with Vlad out of my dorm room, I never dreamed that it would be where it is today. I still consider myself so incredibly lucky, and it feels surreal that the job I’ve been able to create is this one—I mean, it doesn’t even sound like a real job. But Vlad and I have put in work and been lucky with timing, and that’s lead to us creating this site and our PurseForum. Each bag is a little part of that business that we’ve built.

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I remember saving up to buy my first Louis Vuitton piece (the Wapity), and how exciting that was for me. I specifically recall getting a Fendi Spy from my parents for Christmas, and how hard it was to track down that bag and find the version I wanted at the time. My first Birkin—though the purchase was somewhat hilarious because I wound up feeling ill—will forever be an incredibly important part of my bag collection. My Chanel Reissue? That was part of an extravagant birthday celebration that Vlad planned for me, and I got to go to Chanel and pick the bag of my dreams out. That’s the thing: the majority of the bags I own hold a special place in my heart and collection, which makes parting with it feel so incredibly hard.

Now that I have Millie, I imagine passing my bags down to her. I want her to know the story of each bag, to appreciate how bags are more than just bags to me, and for her to really look forward to getting to use my bags. But for all I know, she won’t care for bags at all—she may think a simple black crossbody is plenty, and the rest that I have are excessive. Maybe our son will want some of my bags, and I’d love for him to have them too if he ever wanted, but maybe he won’t. I have built up the idea of passing my bags down, but that is really nothing more than an idea—there’s no real truth in that yet, and there may never be.

So what’s a girl to do?

My problem doesn’t sound like much of a problem, but I do think it taps into the notion that many of us face—we live in excess in some areas of our lives. Vlad and I constantly talk about simplifying our belongings, because let’s face it, we use and reuse the same few items and the rest are just added things and noise. I do the same with my bags. I do change them out, but not nearly as often as I did before I had Millie, and many of them are dated and not yet back in style. This is a solid reminder that I should use each bag more and not just let them be pretty objects sitting in my closet.

Many of the bags I own are sitting among clothing that I too will never use again. I have somewhat accepted the fact (somewhat!) that my body will be forever changed. Those size small blouses will never fit my chest again and that is ok, but for some reason I let them sit there hoping maybe my body post the second baby will just shrink (I actually laughed typing this because it won’t happen and that’s okay).

There are options if I were to sell my bags. I could donate some or sell them and use profits to donate to a charity, which would make me feel good about what I was doing with them. But for right now, I am set in keeping the majority of them, and I am not sure what that says about me. Does it make me a hoarder or a collector? And I feel like there may be a fine line between the two, one which I am walking ever so closely.

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