The Bag Lady

 bag-lady-home-box

So I realised quite a long time ago that I lean towards an obsessive personality. I don’t mean in a weirdo kind of way, I just recognise in myself the tendency to fall into the grip of something to the point where it stops being a hobby for example, and sort of takes over. I guess it’s another example of the struggle I’ve always had to take a balanced approach to stuff. Trouble is, it’s like anything else…recognising that you’ve crossed a line, and finding the desire or the ability to stop aren’t necessarily one and the same thing, right?

Over the years I’ve referred to myself as a ‘collector’ – isn’t that just the best catch-all name for someone who can’t quit buying stuff…it’s kind of a license to carry on, because it legitimises what you’re doing. Some years ago, I bought a necklace. It was nothing special, just a little piece of costume jewellery but I really liked it. It drew a few comments and I liked the way it looked, so I started paying more attention to jewellery in general. Bought a few more things…outgrew my jewellery box so moved a few things around and had a jewellery drawer instead.

And then another. Then I started displaying them on a wrought iron wall sculpture in my bedroom, and loved the way it looked so once that one was overloaded, I bought another and started filling that one up too. I spent hours scouring on-line outlets for statement jewellery, hunting down unusual and often outrageously priced hand-made one-off pieces. After all, I was a collector. Shops, markets, boutiques, craft fairs…it was all about the jewellery.

The thing is, I rarely wore any of it. I mean I did in the early days, but I was skinny back then. As my collection grew, so did my waistline and in the same way that clothes don’t look or feel right on this fat body, neither does jewellery. You can have a gorgeous statement necklace for example, hand tooled by a master craftsman in an exclusive little studio who’s more than likely relaxing on a beach somewhere with a large Pina Colada on the proceeds of what you paid for it, but when you put it on, if it’s sitting in the shadow of a stumpy double chin, framed by fat arms and with a spare tyre sitting right underneath it, I’m here to tell you it doesn’t look as nice as it did in the shop window. Sure, it might fasten, but it still doesn’t fit…or rather, you don’t fit it.

The jewellery obsession passed, although clearly I will be accessorised within an inch of my life when I get to skinny town. Next it was handbags. It still is handbags…now that’s a fat girl accessory I can get along with. No matter what shape or size I am, fabulous handbags are fabulous handbags, even on this chunky arm. But they’re an expensive hobby and have definitely contributed to my bank manager’s nervous twitch. He’s even keener for me to get to skinny town than I am, on the basis that I might step away from the handbag counter. Because again, somewhere along the way, I crossed the line from interested, to obsessive.

I dipped into the psychology of collecting once, more out of curiosity than anything else – I couldn’t believe the wealth of differing perspectives out there in terms of what inspires people to collect stuff. I suspected some ‘ologist’ somewhere would try and declare that it was my way of filling a void, and I could even get on board with that on some level. It seems that Freud went one step further and regarded it as stemming from unresolved toilet training conflict which seemed a bit extreme to me. I mean yes, fair enough, one or two of the credit card statements I’ve had following a fuck it moment in Selfridges have turned my bowels to liquid, but I always made it to the potty in time!

Whatever…I continue to be a magpie. With great accessories… 🙂

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16 thoughts on “The Bag Lady

  1. Hi,all. My confession: I am a recovering stockpiler, and hider of fabric. I still have trouble resisting beautiful, novel or quality materials, nevermind that i’m a completely inept seamstress! It was/is torture to walk away & leave them in the store. Once I had decided that I might ? be running out of storage/hiding space for it all, i began making rudimentary patchwork covers… Mostly give them away, as i’ve found they don’t sell well at all.

    This is a half-assed confession. I own up to the compulsion, but feel I’ve got a work-around. And I indulge every time I have the coin. It did occur to me that I had reached a new level of depravity, consuming several yards of perfection only to take it straight home & cut it up! Is that important? …sort of like indulging a designer luggage fetish, to make coasters. sigh

    Fleury

    1. A hider of fabric eh Fleury..? I can definitely understand the attraction, fabric off the roll smells so good…and I also love patchwork, but lack the patience to do it myself. Each to our own!!

  2. I myself, prefer to keep it broad, say collect anything that is pink. That way I don’t limit it to just one subject like pineapples :)…. Seriously I had this discussion just last week. I seem to get onto a tangent and become obsessive! I am now completely obsessed with dishes, kitchen gadgets and cooking which dovetails nicely with dieting.

    1. The ‘all or nothing’ mentality…yes, that’s pretty deep seated in a good number of us Mimi. I’d say it’s pretty much the front runner in the motley collection of reasons why I’m fat!

  3. Hi all. Cherie, well done, confiding here – I’ve heard it & have no compunction about holding you to it, either. The safety of the Skinnytown express is where we want to be: there are some badlands ahead before we see the New Year station sign flash by.

    I was in a light blue funk this week, but yesterday’s extravaganza has been SAFELY navigated. & it must have been worrying me because i feel buoyant today. It was a meal. Meal & National Holiday passed without catastrophe, Dee! Ended up being downright pleasant. Thanks for the wishes from over in the sane world.

    Dee, you invoked Freud. Wasn’t he the one who said, Sometimes a handbag is just a handbag? heeheehee. Hugs, Fleury

    1. Ha ha Fleury well if he said that, clearly the man understood nothing about the female psyche…or this one at least! And well done on navigating your way through food heaven yesterday…I’m feeling positively dazzled by your halo. Cherie, you and I have to up our game over the next holiday season…can’t have Fleury up there alone on the podium, right? 🙂

  4. My vice is shoes. I make Imelda look modest but I just can’t help myself. And while my hips don’t always cooperate .. my hooves never let me down!

    1. Ahhh…on some level I’m envious, I’ve got feet like pasties and shoe shopping has always been traumatic! But when I get to Skinnytown and I can participate in this very female pastime I’ll give it a fair shot. I’m open to persuasion!

  5. I do understand this. It’s always been all or nothing with me. I have a hard time riding the middle of the line. I don’t really care about handbags or jewelry, but I do love Christmas ornaments, salt & pepper shakers, and scrapbook “stuff.” My mother collects things. I mean, she collects things!!! Angels, for one. Before that, it was pineapples. In between, it was lighthouses and flamingos at their summer home. You walk into the house and it’s like you’ve entered heaven with all the angels. At their summer home, it’s flamingo paradise outside and you walk in and there are lighthouses EVERYWHERE! I don’t give any credit to Freud, but that is a funny concept that it’s related to toilet training. Ha ha!

  6. LOL I have that magpie ‘shiny’ problem myself – jewelry for sure – lately instead of jewelry it’s art supplies . . . dear lord the place is overrun . . .

    But putting the breaks on one and all problems is what control is about no? I’ve had three days of chaos food wise, giant holiday cooking and entertaining here [Thanksgiving in the US] and too much of too many foods and no time to keep track [nor inclination of course – but we won’t mention that!]

    I’m confessing in public and getting back on track in the morning [and firmly shutting my mouth for the rest of the night!]

    Now if I can just avoid going back to the shopping cart full of watercolor paper that is hiding in a closed window online . . .

    1. Hahahaha bless you Cherie you did make me laugh. I hear your confession, and all is forgiven of course…but when you open your eyes tomorrow we’ll all be lurking around the corner y’hear?!

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