Bags Life

The night Mike and I admitted our feelings for each other, I got so excited I left my wallet by my PC and had to pa-cute my way home. I had nothing else (that I can easily part with) but the LRT token I found in my filofax, so I sheepishly explained to the bus conductor that I have, um, left my wallet at the office, and asked him to please accept the LRT token* as temporary payment for my ride from Megamall to San Pedro. I told him that I will track him down at the terminal and pay my dues the following day. Luckily, he didn't give me the heave-ho and said paying wasn't necessary under the circumstances.

I thanked him, and thanked God, because if he had been any less gallant (or generous) I would have needed to get off somewhere in treacherous EDSA, beg for change so I can call my mother and ask her to come get me home. The alternative would have been to beg for change, wait for an hour for Mike to get home to Caloocan, then ask him to come get me in treacherous EDSA and get me home. Either way, I would need to approach perfect strangers and ask for change. (Urrhhh.. I shudder at the thought.) And if I did choose plan A and called my mom, I would have earned the ire equal to 3 hydrogen bombs. She would have soooooo hated to be dragged out of bed just to head off in the dark night to collect a daughter who was so euphoric to remember her own wallet. (Urrrhhh... more shudder. )

Anyway, the experience (and the would have beens) embarrased and fazed me enough to learn important lessons: 1) Thou shall not, for any reason, be so stupid as to leave your wallet ever again. And 2) Thou shall not put all your eggs in one basket -- stash some cash in other compartments besides your wallet!

And so from then on I leave/keep lose change (enough for at least a phone call so I won't need to beg from complete strangers) in my checkbook, my cosmetic kit, my pen case, my card case, and in the inside pockets of ALL of my bags...

I realized today though, as I cleaned out my closet, that the bags in which I stashed my emergency cash have grown to a considerable collection:

Native bags. At the foreground, center is Claire's Christmas/birthday gift to me. The rest I bought from the glamorous, ultra-chic place that is Divisoria.

Louis who? Yes, I went through the name-dropping phase too. And yes, dear, they are fakes. (If I can afford the real thing, would I be riding a bus?) And yes, dear, I don't use them anymore. The beige and violet Louis (out back) has never been used, been at the bottom of my bag stack for er, seven years.

Patchwork. These are the more current ones and are my favorites, along with the native bags. The multi-colors allow me to match them with several outfits and allow me to use the same bag for several days in a row. :)

Florals and Stripes, Denim and other Fabrics. The Marilyn Monroe and the brown flowery print bag belong to my grandmother. :) When I like a style I buy it in different colors, as the canvass bags above, left, show. :) The denim mailman bag I bought from a former Home Economics teacher in St. Scholastica's College, who sold the bag (which she used as a project sample) in a garage sale, for only P100!

Les Petits. And then of course, my shopping staples. Light and petite to allow for better and faster movement when shopping, but spacious enough to contain my wallet and mobile phone. The elephant-themed bag at the foreground is a pasalubong from Claire, from Bangkok. The lilac evening purse would have been used during Eman's wedding, but I wound up buying a blue evening dress after a disastrous experience with my modiste.

All together now. Here they all are, including ones that weren't in the previous pictures. A veritable ukay-ukay bag mountain. Time to purge and hold a garage sale, don't you think?

The LRT token was worth P6.00 back then; a one-way fare from Megamall to San Pedro cost P28.00.

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Anonymous said...

Amazing! I didnt realize you have that many bags. I should have happily asked for one or two to carry back here in Australia where bags are quite expensive. Could you save a couple for me please? Someone made a comment -- if Imelda Marcos had her 3,000 pairs of shoes, you are starting to make your own collection of bags. Great!

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Anthology means a collection of poems, short stories, plays, songs, or excerpts. My name is Anne, and this blog contains a collection of my thoughts, musings and writings (poems, short stories), some songs I like, plus a sprinkling of excerpts I find worth sharing --hence, AnneThology.

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Anthology derives from the Greek word ἀνθολογία (anthologia; literally “flower-gathering”) for garland — or bouquet of flowers — which was the title of the earliest surviving anthology, assembled by Meleager of Gadara.

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