Bag Plus Six: Tagged

I've been tagged by the editor of The Glossy to excavate and exhibit some items from my handbag, apparently for purposes of psychological revelation (and in my case, chagrin). I have an inkling this request occurred because of a random comment I made about the peculiar assortment of things I cram into my oversized satchel.

First, the bag itself. It's by Rafe, and I paid around $63.00 for it at a DSW shoe warehouse. I'm not a bag lady (not yet, anyway) and I either didn't carry bags at all or I carried the stodgy, Yankee-proper Coach bag my mother would give me every couple of years ("A new-looking bag never hurt anyone").

The price tag on the bag was $653.00 and another tag indicated that it was half off. A smaller tag indicated some mysterious "additional savings." I waited for 20 minutes in line and then had the checker scan it. This was my biggest retail score of 2007.

Contents:

1. A bottle of Voleur de Roses from L'Artisan. The name means "Rose Thief," and the scent is damp patchouli, rain, ripe plums, and purloined petals. It suits the inner hippie in me and is more elegant than a four-buck bottle of medicinal patchouli oil from Whole Foods.

2. A California lottery ticket: Five bucks, five chances. The most I've ever won in the lottery is ten dollars, which is nine more than anyone I know.

3. A Bobbi Brown Rich Cocoa lipstick, matte. Everyone should have a brick-red lipstick. This one is a great color but falls short on wear and application. I can't ever get it on straight, and then it goes dull and muddy. What it needs is a gloss on top, but then what have we got but a gloppy red mouth? Thick, too. Besame not mucho.

4. The well-traveled walnut. I've had this nut in my purse since 1990. It is indestructible. So far, it's been to Europe, Mexico, Hawaii, and Idaho. It has seen me through some epic times, including Biblical-type natural disasters, sometimes twice.

5. Seven dollars in one-dollar bills. As a freelancer, this reminds me that income is never steady and sometimes is completely non-existent. Had I been tagged a day earlier, I'd have had fifteen dollars in dimes and pennies.

6. A Hawaiian Punch keychain, legacy of my ex. My ex is seven years younger than I am. We got together when I was 28 and he was 21. When I was 35 and he was 28, we argued over his hanging a Beavis and Butthead poster in the living room. When he met a 22-year-old goth chick and moved out, he took the poster out of the kitchen, the compromise location where the poster hung for nearly a decade. I imagine it is now displayed in his new bedroom and I like to think that he has happily found someone of his true emotional age.

And I am tagging:
Heather! Tango Pirates
Strawberry Milkshakes
Claire! Enchant and Doom
Gnarlitude
Fashionologie
Curella Says
Hailey! Style Symmetry