I travel quite a bit for my job, but if you saw me in the airport, you’d probably never know. I’m not one of those cool, efficient travelers, like George Clooney in Up in the Air. (Terrible movie, by the way, but his packing skills are amazing.) I never pack light. I just seem to be incapable of it. I seldom wear flats, even though I promise myself every time to never again wear heels in the airport. And, I choose my bags poorly.
This past weekend, I went on a business trip to Philadelphia, and I took this beautiful purse my mother gave me for Christmas.
Isn’t it cute? I get compliments on it almost daily. I knew better, though, than to take it with me when I was traveling, because cute as it is, those wooden handles are heavy. And when you add in phone chargers, snacks, and all the other essentials I must have when I fly, this is what happens:
If you can’t tell, those are bruises (and Channing Tatum in the background, but let’s focus on the bruises). I have these on both arms from jostling a heavy purse around all weekend. It looks like my husband beats me. I don’t have a husband.
It’s probably a little absurd to suffer bruises for fashion. My feet would insist that all I put them through for fashion is completely absurd. But, I am a slow learner. I may not use this purse when I travel again next – maybe. But, I am almost certain that I will find something else cute and impractical to take it’s place. It’s a cross I willingly bear.