So this is the new IT bag…

The Balenciaga Motorcycle bag. The Hindustan Times Cafe today tells me that it has been spotted on the arms of every fashionista in town, therefore I must sell my soul now and run out squealing to buy it from wherever it is one buys this particular IT bag from.

 

Ah, now as I see the article in further detail, I note they have kindly supplied me with prices and where to order from details if I have 80k in spare cash to fling on a bag that looks, well, just plain ugly.

Sigh. Is it a sign of how old I am rapidly getting that the heartbeat doesnt even flutter just that wee bit, nor do the palms start sweating, nor does the mouth go dry.Nor do I go furtively to my account online to check my balance and calculate rapidly whether I could live on chewing gum, fresh air and love for the next month or so, if I did transfer all the contents of said account across to the sellers of said IT bag.

I saw the Balenciaga Motorcycle Bag first I think almost a decade ago when a magazine told me the Olsen twins had almost a 100 of these between the two of them. I looked at the bags and wondered why would someone pay good hardearned money to buy 100 of the same ugly bag.

It definitely is an indication of the fact that my fashion sense is now rapidly going to seed. I haven’t bought a new bag in god knows how long, surely the staff at Esbeda and Guess and Hidesign are sobbing their mascara off into tissue papers at the drastic drop in sales. The last bag I bought myself was purchased three years ago as a wedding anniversary gift to myself and post that, I haven’t slapped credit card down at cash till for anything resembling a bag. I desperately need to buy myself new shoes, given that all I have are the extreme party wear stilettoes which double up as weapons of assault in a pinch, and them flat soles and sneakers and nothing in between for days when I want to be pretty and feminine and tick tock around without feeling like the Swamp Thing. And worse, I actually have space in my wardrobe for things to be added. I can open my cupboard without alerting residents of the home to be prepared for an avalanche.

And what is even scarier? I don’t feel the urge to run to the stores and buy up everything in sight. The hoardings and ads screaming Upto 51 per cent off which reeled me in like a hypnotised sleepwalking subject into the store without fail now fail to enthuse me. I no longer pick up a pair of jeans which are one size smaller because they have cute decals on their pockets and promise to slim my butt pronto in order to wear them and figure out that five years down the line, they are still lying untouched in the cupboard screaming my name everytime I open the cupboard, begging to be worn or given away to have the purpose of their existence fulfilled.

I peruse through the Vogue which is faithfully delivered to my residence every month and marvel at the perfection of the women contained within and wonder how much time they spend on grooming themselves and how much a national disaster a broken nail must be to them.

Coming back to the Balenciaga Motorcycle bag, it looks like a perfectly ugly like studded bag to me. I might carry it if a gun was held at my temple, or if I was seriously out of bags. Or if the son bought it for me. Come on, I wore a tinsel crown with The World’s Best Mudder on it for an entire day. What? He spells phonetically, this child, and this was two Mother’s Days ago.

Frankly, I have now lost the urge for a LV Alma too, the monogrammes all over make me goggle eyed and physically sick. Also I was seen too many women marching around like they haven’t moved their bowels in months because they have that piece of canvas dangling from their wrists.

I would rather carry a Holi bag these days. You know, they’re so very pretty with their embossed leather and brocade. And they make me feel all feminine and beautiful. Not all in your face studs and random expanse of leather aka said Motorcycle bag. What really makes this bag look good, according to me, is the women who carry it.

Maybe that is what an IT bag is really all about. Making whatever you carry IT.