The search is over

For as long as I have been using a pocketbook, I have been searching for the perfect one.  The P E R F E C T one.  In order to accomplish this mission, I have purchased a rather large number of all shapes and sizes, and yet, have never been fully satisfied.  It was either too big, too small, didn't stay on the shoulder properly, was too hard to find something in, or just wasn't right for no reason other than just because.   It is also quite possible I wasn't trying all that hard because it is fun to buy new pocketbooks. 

And listen to Maddie yell "step away from the pocketbooks, you don't need another one."

Or hear Peter say, "Is that another new pocketbook?"

My sister Tomasen and I believe that this deep-rooted desire for the perfect bag began in our childhood when my grandfather led us down, as a means of ritual, to the garage where an entire wall was adorned with pocketbooks that he and his wife Helen had picked up at yard sales (one of their favorite pasttimes).  We were allowed to choose only one to use  on that day and there was no changing your mind.  Which is, if you think about it, kind of a cruel thing to do to a kid.  And I am sure that my grandfather had no idea that he would leave behind two granddaughters with a very distorted view of what the perfect pocketbook actually was.

And that is because the actual perfect pocketbook did not exist in the garage.  They each had their pros and cons and one had to decide which was more important that day.  Was it better to have the pocketbook with the really fun clasp to open but which had a terrible round bone handle that wouldn't sling over your shoulder?  Or the black patent leather bag that also had the fun clasp but was really kind of cheap looking?

Over time my pocketbook needs have changed -- before kids but during my first pocketbook phase I chose large bags, to carry the hairbrush one never left home without, perhaps a book to read if I was ever caught without anything to do, a huge wallet, a comb, gum, cigarettes, a lighter and a shitload of other crap I always had to paw through to find what I was looking for.

When I had kids the diaper bag served double duty, and I would slip my wallet into one of the pockets.  And when I went somewhere without the diaper bag, I felt lost, disturbed, as though something was missing.  (I got over this, I am sure!)

After the days of diaper bags disappeared, I went so far the other way it was ridiculous. My pocketbooks were so tiny they hardly held a stick of gum.  My hair went unbrushed, and I couldn't write a check anywhere because the checkbook didn't fit.  Obviously, I had to change my ways.

And so, I have been on a search.  I have backpack pocketbooks, leather pocketbooks, cloth pocketbooks, sling pocketbooks, the back bag (supposed to save your back) and a series of little pocketbooks that barely hold a lipstick and a wallet but they look so stylish.

And then, without warning, I found it.  Tomasen and I were at Target Christmas shopping and we were going to go to New York City in a few days.  As one knows, you can't visit a city (any city) without purchasing either a new pocketbook, shoes or a coat (and some

times all three, depending on the circumstances).  I was cool with the shoes and coat, but I was test driving a pocketbook that day and I knew with clear certainty it wasn't going to cut it.

Now, I don't normally buy my pocketbooks at Target because they are ... I will say it ... cheap looking.  But I put my hand on this one bag and thought, hmmmm, seems to be the right size.  I hardly inspected it as Tomasen was disgusted I was even looking (you will find when you are a pocketbook hound that people lose patience with your search, even if they have the same problem!) but it was twenty bucks and so I threw it in my cart.

I switched into it the following day, and my life changed.  It was ::::::insert drum roll:::::: fricking perfect.  It was the right size, I could fit a small hair brush, a small tube of hand cream, a handful of tampons and sunglasses in the main body.  But the true 

magic, the true beauty of this specimen were the two outer pockets.  As you can see at left, there is a pocket that opens up that works as the wallet.  So, while I have the pocketbook over my shoulder, I just need to unzip my wallet and wa la, there is my money and credit cards at my quick disposal (ha ha.  Don't you know it!)

The other front pocket is where I keep my lip stuff -- easy to grab and apply with the snap of a button, and when I actually carry my cell phone, it goes in there as well.  It's PERFECT!

But here's the rub.  I loved the search.  I loved the hope that the next pocketbook might be "the one."  To have found it, well yes, it is nice.  I guess it's kind of like being married.

Now I'm stuck with it.   'Til death do we part.