The Perils of Pocketbooks

by Mary Higgins

Why is it that women are the gender carrying a pocketbook? I don’t know about you but I find pocketbooks are a pain. Literally and figuratively. It doesn’t matter how beautiful they are. To me, they are just glamorized storage containers. Mine always dangles from one shoulder to free up my hands. The size bag I need, also knocks things over as I shop for items that inevitably end up being carried inside it. 

Men have it so much easier without their need to carry lipstick,mascara, moist towelettes, a hairbrush, a mini-straightening iron, barrettes, elastics, tissues, tampons, sunglasses, flash drives  unpaid bills, stamps to mail them with, paid bills that are on their way to the mailbox, foundation, moisturizer, emergency chocolate and a pen to write with. They simply carry their money in a billfold, wearing their sunglasses on their heads. But they do put down said sunglasses everywhere they go and leave them somewhere 50% of the time but that’s for another story.

Trying to keep my pocketbook organized seems to be an ability I wasn’t given. When that gene was handed out, I was probably in the ladies room. I need too many items; bandaids, batteries, tissues that glom onto my hairbrush creating that fine white lint that deposits on my hair resembling dandruff. It also sheds all over my sunglasses interfering with my ability to see where I’m going. My pocketbook also holds the books that need to be returned to the library, plus the pocket umbrella.

Every pocketbook I’ve ever owned with the exception of those credit-card sized evening bags which are in a category all their own, seems to become the Bermuda Triangle. Things mysteriously disappear and are never seen again. except for empty candy wrappers and receipts. My local CVS always prints out a receipt attached to numerous coupons taking up residence in my pocketbook. Unless the receipts fall out from the overflow at the top, they sit in there replicating, in exponential numbers.

This summer I forget to fasten the sunblock tube and it oozes white, all over the interior, smudging my sunglasses that have that fine coating from the tissue lint. I also glance inside to find my lipstick running around topless. And I’m off running errands, blissfully unaware that everything I touch, including my white slacks, is stained crimson.

Seems there is never a trash barrel available at the moment when I need to dispose of gum or candy wrappers. When I’m in the car, I pocket them beside the door handle but everywhere else, I end up stuffing them into my bag, never remembering to empty it once I return home.

Sometimes it’s the lining in the bag that develops a microscopic tear causing the insanity. Pennies and dimes have a way of shrinking themselves in order to pass through that hole that enlarges to welcome nickels, and quarters and even house keys! Then I arrive at the parking meter fully confident I have enough change, judging from the weight of my bag with its loud jingle, only to discover, no quarters are in sight!.The lining of my pocketbook ate them.

I’m the woman carrying a canvas bag all year long because the leather ones when full, become too heavy for me to lift. They wreak havoc with my shoulder. In every photograph, I’m the woman with her right shoulder hiked up to her earlobe from decades of hoisting a shoulder bag, even though the pocketbook is not even in the picture.

Whenever I get a new pocketbook, I start out with good intentions planning to carry as few items as possible. The latest had a pouch built for my sunglasses, But alongside the keys to the house, the set of keys to my parents’ house, all the loyalty cards to every store I shop - at last count, I have enough to paper a small bathroom with -  plus the sunhat, the rain hat and the rolled up newspaper; I still need a GPS to navigate my way inside it. Standing in line at the checkout, I misplace the sunglasses in a place other than that little pouch. Is it any wonder then, after that one infraction, the sun glass pouch becomes crammed with receipts? They always expire the day before I decide to use them.

I don’t even look at pocketbooks with snap closures so that leaves me with zippered bags. They frequently mis-behave, with the little metal teeth chewing up the lining alongside its sides then becoming stuck at the most inopportune time such as during that interview when I reach in to pull out my resume and try to squeeze it out of a 3 inch opening.

I’d like to have a pocketbook large enough to hold my yoga mat. I’m forever leaving it behind on whatever bench I use after class to put on my shoes. I would design the bag with pockets on either side to hold the water bottle, the energy bar and a change of clothes. I did observe a man removing the contents of his back pack today. Would you believe he was able to scoop its entire contents into one hand? With one hand, I can scoop all those nuts that have escaped the bag of trail mix meandering around in the bottom of my pocketbook.

Mary Higgins All rights reserved August 2015