So, I got a purse for Christmas and I’ve fallen madly in love with it. Madly. In love. With a purse. It’s very unsettling.

Perhaps I should explain. Several years ago, Chris and I decided that instead of buying each other Christmas gifts we would take a day shortly after the holidays and go shopping. We’d take advantage of the sales and get exactly what we wanted.  This doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it is for me.  Seriously, I rarely shop for myself.

So we headed to the brand new Macy’s that just opened near us. While Chris was in the men’s department fondling cashmere sweaters I wandered over to the accessories department. I’d been carrying my $20 black pleather purse for more than five years, which was perfectly fine with me; but some recent comments (like, “gawd, you’ve had that purse for a long time, eh?”) made me think that perhaps it was time for a change.

Now, I’m more of a shoe person; I’ve have never had a problem spending some serious bank on a gorgeous pair of stilettos. But $30 was probably the maximum I had ever spent on a purse. What I lug my wallet and coupons around in has never been very important to me. I mean, really—when you think about it, a plastic grocery bag could provide the exact same function.

So, I’m strolling through the purses, chuckling to myself over the ridiculous prices, thinking I should just go find one at Target. And then I saw it. A brown suede Dooney & Bourke tote that cost the equivalent of all the other purses I had ever bought in my entire life. I picked it up. And put it down. And picked it up. And smelled it. And petted it. And put it down. Then I just stood there and gazed at it, little hearts popping over my head.

Chris showed up about this time, cashmere sweater in hand, and said, “Did ya find something?” I couldn’t speak; I just pointed. “You like that? So get it!” (Yes, I know. He’s a keeper.)

“But…look,” I whispered, pointing at the price tag.

“That’s OK,” my wonderful husband said, “how often do you buy a purse? You’ll probably carry it for ten years.” Rationalization is an AWESOME thing.

So, after standing there staring at it for what seemed like an eternity, I picked it up and carried it to the cashier. I mean, the sales associate. I literally broke out in a sweat as she rang it up while rattling on about how that purse was just MADE for me. Cool it, Lady, I thought. You’ve already made the sale.

But she was right; this purse was made for me. I used to abuse my purses, throwing them around and dropping them wherever, but no more. I treat this one like a newborn baby. I make sure that any surface I set it on is clean and I’m very careful about not letting it brush up against ANYTHING.

Saturday night we went to a friend’s house for dinner. When we arrived there was a light mist falling. I don’t know if I was more worried about my purse getting ruined or my hair frizzing, but needless to say it was a very distressing thirty seconds from the car to the front door.

My sister, who buys purses like this on a regular basis, says I have gone to the dark side and that the next expensive purse purchase will be much, much easier. I fear beyond words that this may in fact be the case.