My favorite handbag was handmade in San Francisco of a brown and turquoise vintage velvet Moroccan print. It has little feet on the bottom—I am a pushover for handbags with little feet. The company from which I purchased the bag uses women’s names in place of stock numbers, and this handbag’s “name” is Zelda. Of course, any bag that costs as much as this one did deserves its own name.
Now, I am not in the habit of naming my accessories, but the name Zelda has stuck. Maybe this also explains how Zelda has gained a personality somewhere between a pet and an invisible friend. We all refer to “her” by name; “she” gets “her” own seat in restaurants, and comes with me everywhere. “She’s” a smart dresser too, and has accessories of “her” own; a lovely ribbon rose is tied to “her” strap. “She” also gets way more compliments than I do.
Hey, can you be jealous of a handbag?