The Pursuit of Happiness

IMPORTANT LETTER FROM ELBA ANNOUNCEMENT:  I am taking a winter hiatus, folks. A short break to break up the gray gloomy doldrums. I’m going to travel and chill out. Hence my next blog will be in your email boxes on Sunday, February 15.

And now, gentlemen, in honor of Superbowl Sunday, I am giving you guys the day off.  Get ready to cheer on the Seattle Seahawks or the New England Patriots, drink beer, be entertained by Katy Perry at half-time and dig the ultra-expensive commercials. This post is for the ladies.

But before you go…

Personal Side Bet Sidebar:  My daughter Natasha lives in Boston. My grandson Sam is a native Bostonian.

However, my son Nick is moving to Seattle right now.

QUESTION:  What’s a torn Superbowl Mother to do?

ANSWER: Easy.  I love Tom Brady.  If I could be anybody in the whole world, he’s who I would be. Yeah, yeah, I know.  I could have picked a cancer researcher, or a humanitarian, or a movie star, or a Nobel Peace Prize winner or a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist.

Nope.  Sorry.  He’s the coolest cat on the planet.  And he’s got a great back story of ambition, determination- and he’s got Gisele, too. Even his ex baby mama- Bridget Moynahan- is an unbelievable knockout.

I couldn’t care less about “Deflate Gate.”  I want to be Tom. Deal with it, people.

Okay.  Guys, go place your bets.  Ladies, let’s get to something really vital.

Purses.

I actually did the math.  I have been carrying a purse for fifty-four years.  That’s a lot of schlepping.

This is my eighth grade graduation picture.  Look closely, and in my hands you’ll see a white beaded and sequined evening clutch. It was from the Paris store Michel Swiss on the très fashionable Rue De La Paix.  My great-aunt Caroline gave it to me.

(Historians take note that my mother still has the dress- and I can still get into it.)

But roll back the film.  For me, purse-fascination all started in the sixth grade. Up ’til then, no girl at our  dorky little Avoca School in Wilmette, Illinois carried a purse.

But one fateful fashion day, Barbara R. moved in.

From Maywood.

And she had a purse.

OMG.  It was love at first sight for me.  It- and she- were the coolest things I had ever seen.

I proceeded to worship her- and everything about her- for many, many years to come. She was my idol in all things stylish.  If she did it, I wanted to do it, too.

And four years later, Barbara still had “it.”

Here’s her New Trier senior yearbook photo.  No fair, I know, but still note the perfect blonde flip, the round collar blouse and the terrific pierced stud earring.

And if she carried a purse, well that was the signal to the rest of us girls that is was the “in” thing to do.

The purse du jour of high school- at least for some of the time- was like the one in the photo that opened this post.  It was by John Romaine, and I’m sure I bought it at Betty’s of Winnetka.

Ah, Betty’s.  The go-to spot for culottes and round collar and “nothing” blouses and preppy Villager everything.

(And I’m trying to remember if they had Lantz nightgowns.)

But they had everything else, and for awhile if you didn’t have a John Romaine purse, you were as good as dead socially.

Until they were replaced by the fad of using eyeglass cases pinned with a long metal clamp-like thing onto the front of your Chandler’s Assignment Notebook.

Huh?

Then there were the colorful neon little Eaton wallets.

They were big for a time with us North Shore gals, too.

And thanks to Ellen Kander, this just in.  I had forgotten about those little madras clutch purses.  They were hugely popular.

 

But it seemed that every purse had an expiration date.  No sooner had I managed to save up enough allowance to buy the latest “It Bag” than it was declared OUT by style-setters in our grade.

And then I coveted the new, hipper bag badly.

And these days, not too much has changed.

Here’s Vogue’s brief history (with cool pics) of today’s “It Bags.”

(Although Plum Sykes says – rightly so I think- that “it’s an ‘It Bag’ only if you’re unlikely to possess it.”)

Well, I’m still trying.  My great-aunt Caroline’s gift may have been my first bag made in Paris but it certainly wasn’t my last.  You all know about my slight obsession with Hèrmes.

That’s my every day bag. Oxblood, and I love that bridle bit hardware.

And one thing for sure. Hèrmes is classic. It never will be replaced by a fad.

It’s timeless.

And maybe so is my great-aunt Caroline’s evening bag,

Still got that, too.

Now take a look at the IT blonde of all time and her bag.

(Sorry, Barbara.)

Okay, guys, you can come back now.

See you all on February 15.

And I’ll give Gisele your regards.