There are certain things men will simply never understand.
Why we need decorative pillows nobody is allowed to lie on.
Why there are 14 different bottles in the shower.
And why a woman who already owns several perfectly good purses can suddenly announce:
“I need a new purse.”
Notice I said NEED.
Not want. Not would like. Not might consider purchasing if the price is right.
NEED.
Because somewhere along the way, buying a new purse stopped being shopping and became a form of emotional healthcare.
I recently bought a new purse.
Did I already have a purse?
Yes.
Was there anything wrong with it?
No.
Did it still zip up, hold my belongings and perform all of the duties traditionally expected of a purse?
Absolutely.
Completely irrelevant.
Because I saw the one.
Ladies, you know the moment.
You pick it up.
You feel it.
You open it.
And then…
POCKETS.
Ohhhhhhh.
It has pockets.
Suddenly you’re not just looking at a purse. You’re looking at an entirely new life.
This purse is going to change you.
You’ll be organized.
You’ll know exactly where your keys are.
You’ll never again stand beside your car digging through Kleenex, receipts, lip balm, loose change and something sticky trying to find them.
New Purse Me has her shit together.
Then you get home and begin the sacred ceremony known as:
The Purse Transfer.
Out comes everything from the old purse.
Wallet.
Keys.
Sunglasses.
Hand sanitizer.
Kleenex.
Tylenol.
Lip balm.
Phone charger.
Three pens — two of which don’t work.
Seven receipts.
A grocery list from six months ago.
A mint with no wrapper.
And one unidentified object from the bottom that you’re fairly certain wasn’t originally that colour.
You throw half of it away.
You carefully organize everything else into your beautiful new purse.
And for approximately 36 hours, you are a changed woman.
Then something terrible happens.
You realize…
THE NEW PURSE IS TOO SMALL.
Apparently, while standing in the store admiring it, you forgot that you don’t carry a purse.
You operate a mobile emergency preparedness centre.
Need a Band-Aid?
I’ve got one.
Need Advil?
Absolutely.
Need a Canadian Tire receipt from 2024?
Give me a minute.
Need a charging cable for a phone nobody has owned since 2017?
You’re in luck.
And yet we continue searching.
Somewhere out there is The Perfect Purse.
Not too big.
Not too small.
Enough pockets, but not so many that you spend 20 minutes checking every single one looking for your debit card.
A strap that stays on your shoulder.
A zipper that doesn’t require two hands and a minor engineering degree.
And enough room for everything we apparently need to survive a 45-minute trip to Walmart.
And then, eventually, you’ll see another one.
You’ll stop.
You’ll touch it.
You’ll open it.
You’ll discover a little zippered compartment.
And you’ll whisper:
“Ohhhh… I like this.”
Your husband will look at you and say:
“Don’t you already have a purse?”
And that, ladies, is when you realize…
After all these years together…
The man still knows absolutely nothing about you.
😂👜
Welcome to the Arctic Blonde Society. ❄️
Where we don’t own too many purses.
We simply haven’t found the perfect one yet.
