The purse

Do you remember the first time you felt like an adult? Like a real, responsible, honest-to-goodness grownup? For me it was when I was seventeen. I'd just graduated from high school and in true Midwest tradition, we had spent hours sending out announcements and senior pictures, hosting a huge graduation open house at the state park where I worked, and in turn? I was overwhelmed with gifts. Money and packages. Lots of money and lots of packages. For me, it was an amazing outpouring of love, and an amazing haul.

Most of the money got put away in a savings account for safe keeping (i.e., college). But my parents told me I should get something for myself as well. My parents are pretty great like that. They realize the value in celebrating your accomplishments and commiserating special events with small tokens. And this time? I was encouraged to choose my own token.

And this brings me to the first time I felt like a grownup. We went to the Twelve Oaks Mall in Novi. The nice mall with the expensive stores. And we went to Hudson's where my mom took us sometimes for fancy lunches of Maurice salads (the only way I really enjoy green onions is in a Maurice salad). And I looked at the purses. I looked at the grownup, very adult in my eyes, leather purses. And I bought one. The purse in the photo above. I remember it cost a hundred dollars. I had never bought myself anything that had cost a hundred dollars before. I had never paid cash for something that cost that much before. But on that day, I did. I paid for it and I remember feeling so excited. I had a real grownup, woman's leather purse. And it had a label on it (Liz Claiborne). (NOTE: I have not to this day ever paid so much for a purse again. Mostly I buy purses that are half off at Kohl's or are in the summer section at Target).

Just this week I was cleaning out my closet and I pulled out this leather purse and I realized that I hadn't used it in probably ten or eleven years. The strap's a little out of date and much to my dismay, the leather was somehow rubbing off and sticking to other things in the closet (hmmm...maybe 100 bucks did not get me quality leather after all). So I decided to toss it. I have a bunch of other purses and it wouldn't be missed. But, in reality it would. I'd know it was gone because to me, that purse represented a very important time in my life. A time when I was starting a new adventure, when I was dressing for the part, when I felt like it was time to call the shots and make my own choices, not rely on my parents or friends to show me the way. That purse was the start of something.

That something continues and I know that although it's been *gasp* sixteen years since I stood in that department store and laid down my money, a piece of me still thinks back to the girl I was before the purse. She's not completely gone. She's still glad to have her family and her friends by her side. She's still glad she's on an adventure every single day. And she's really glad she still has good taste in purses.