I am Not Obsessed

Yesterday, Lynda posted a picture of a fabulous pair of shoes that she knew would someday change her life for the better. I immediately understood her connection with these sparkly shoes because I too have a secret desire – a friend I would someday like to meet, cherish, and build a shrine to. But before I can introduce you to the object of my consumer driven desires, I need to tell you the sordid tale of how we met.

It was a day like any other: I was sitting at home on my ugly yellow couch in Nairobi, looking for nothing in particular when my browser found its way to Roots Canada. Since I am Canadian and a longtime devotee of all things Roots, this wasn’t terribly odd. I was perusing cute little T-shirts and yoga pants, when suddenly my mouse clicked over to the leather collection. And then I saw it: a purse big enough to hold all my crap. A purse worthy of my devotion.

Several months later, Hubby very reluctantly permitted me to go into five different Roots stores, five dozen times over the course of two weeks. A few of the locations took out restraining orders and thought I was a purse stalker but I would not be deterred. One location even went so far as to tell me the purse that had been haunting my dreams for three months didn’t exist!

Despite the fact that the evil sales person may have had a vague point, I quickly found the purse that I loved – a purse that I knew would love me in return. This girlie purse was black with a long adjustable strap, and lots of zippered compartments. Eventually, I brought her home and introduced the love of my life to my parents. I knew our love was real.

But Hubby grew jealous of my dark leather handbag and declared that she wasn’t worthy of me. “She isn’t good enough,” he swore. And so I let myself be swayed by my first love and kissed my new love goodbye.

I returned the bag to her home in the Roots store with tears sparkling in my eyes. Sensing I was wavering in my decision to separate from my purse forever, Hubby looked around and found someone new, someone he knew would make a better addition to our new family. He found the New York Messenger Bag in vintage tribe leather.
The NY Messenger Bag from Roots has a zipper pocket in back, which would be perfect for slipping plane tickets and other necessities when we travel. Under the flap are more pockets – one each for my cell phone, camera, and all the needless papers and books I haul around for both Hubby and myself on a daily basis. Better yet this oversized bag is big enough to fit my laptop so I could use it for school!
But it was not to be. Yet again I was thwarted: the store only had my new obsession in brown (tribe) and I already had a brown purse. So I ordered a black (jasper leather) one and I waited.

And I waited. And waited. And I’m still waiting.

The purse of my dreams, without which I cannot properly function and with whom I could probably bring peace to the Middle East, has been on back order since July. I was even willing to order it in brown but then it went on back on back order. God doesn’t want me to have a pretty new purse, I realized.

I have justified the cost of this purse to myself countless times, but at this point I realize that it has simply become pure purse avarice. I know I don’t need a new purse (although I haven’t bought one in at least two years), but this purse has eluded me for so long that I have become obsessed. This purse is meant to be mine.

So now, I am reduced to visiting my purse daily on the Roots website and dreaming on what could have been. I’m sure, Devoted Readers, that there are those among you that pine for the perfect pair of shoes, a Prada bag, or that ideal little black dress that makes everyone look gorgeous. I also know there are those of you who, like me, dislike the consumer society in which we live but… This is different! The purse and I were meant to be! Really.