“Rose Gold is Making a Comeback.” These were the words my wife, Beth, said to me as she continued to fill up her new purse with various items. Items that no one ever thinks to pack but always finds they need. Usually, when they are out an about carrying on with their lives with no stores in sight.
For example, the other day at a store, I asked a checkout guy to cut the tag off of an item. He grunted back at me, “I don’t have any scissors.” I was shocked. IT seemed like it should come with the blue vest. But, not to worry, Beth to the rescue. She dug into her purse, past not two but three bottles of various hand sanitizer.
Beth looked like Crocodile Dundee merged with Betsy Ross. She proceeded to remove a perfect pair of foldable scissors from her purse. With pride, I looked back at the cashier. He was unfazed. But, I eyed him as I cut off the tag. Singing, just under my breath, “anything you can do, she can do better.” Again, he seemed unfazed.
To anyone concerned, no cashiers were hurt in the writing of this piece.
My wife is a Sherpa. A term of endearment for the fantastic things that she can pull out of her purse at a moment’s notice. She loves her purses and handbags. She often leaves the house with 3 or more strapped around her body. Advil, Tylenol, 222’s for our friends North of the Border? If you’ve got a headache, she has you covered.
Hand warmers, Q-tips, gum, pens, hand lotion, a spare purse, perhaps? A Bowtruckle, Diricawl or Billywig, no problem. An original 1932 copy of Little House in the Big Woods, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s first book in the Prarie Series? Yep, it’s probably there, pages un-creased with words untarnished by eyes. Just ask her!
Most likely, she does not have as many headache remedies as I mentioned. But, the rest is the unedited truth. Hand to Potter! I have never met anyone who has ever needed something, where Beth could not retrieve it from her purse. Well, there was that one time, but we don’t talk about it.
Recently she received an offer to review and keep a luxury purse from a retailer free of charge. It seemed like a proper reward for all the help she has offered to others over the years. It even came with a second purse, just in case. She was very excited. But, when she opened it up I had flashbacks of my mother’s mother circa 1976. It was a grandma purse!
What’s the opposite of tactfully? Hmmm. I’m not sure, but I know I demonstrated the opposite with full force. I am not good at masking my emotions or opinions, good or bad. Not holding back, I shared my feelings towards the bag without hesitation. It wasn’t like Beth picked it out herself. It was a free promotion.
It is not her fault that she is now the proud owner of a granny purse. A bag capable of stowing hundreds of Splenda packets and soup Crackers. With room to spare for a chainsaw and a tub of farmer’s market jam. Did I mention that it is Rose Gold? Apparently, it is making a comeback. Thanks, Apple!
Just in time, our youngest daughter Nya came to my rescue. “Mommy,” she said, ” I think it looks like a Super Model Purse!” Crisis averted. But, not for long. I corrected Nya. Explaining, “the purse is far larger than the average supermodel. In fact, it is probably large enough to tote around 3, or more, of them inside. Nya, simply responded, “true.” Then she went back to making slime. Damn my expedited special-recognition skills!
So much for averting a crisis. But, Beth is a confident woman. So much more confident than me. She makes and sticks with her choices. Far better than I ever could. She worries far less about what others think about her. To prove it, she continues to wear Dansko Clogs. No matter how many times I shriek in surprise as if attacked by a shoebox of eight-legged freaks, each time I see them.
Before the pro-granny purse, comfortable, sensible shoe contingent starts overwhelming me with hate mail, please hear me out. I am no fashionista. I faithfully carry around an authentically-artificial leather buffalo wallet. A proud purchase from the Badlands National Park gift store made over ten years ago. There’s no chain from my back pocket to my belt loop, but, yes, in the past, that too has been part of my repertoire.
Many of my shirts are 20 years old. So, I am no Richard Blackwell. But, if my wife didn’t like something, I wore I would burn it immediately. Or bury it deep in my closet. I do not have her strength of character and self. I admire her choices. How she scoffs at me and carries on with her own sense of self. So, if she says, Rose Gold is making a comeback, then I believe her. When I need a spare Chapstick or three, I know where to go.
So, Beth, this February, like every February I thank you for being with me on this journey. Thank you for joining me in the back of a freezing carriage in Chicago, where I proposed to you 17 years ago. Thank You to TRUE, the restaurant we ate at beforehand, for having a personal chair for your purse. How did they know?
I thank you for making me wait on one knee while you dug through your purse to find a candied heart that said “yes.” Perhaps, it was stuck under that can of cat good, but it was worth the wait. My dear, you may be a Sherpa, but you are our Sherpa, and the kids and I love you for it. Every piece of the Rose Gold Granny Purse, Dansko wearing Fashion Icon that you are.
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