Beauty (and memories) are in the eye of the beholder
My love affair with all things pretty started at an early age, and I'm not quite sure how. I spent my early years wearing Catholic school uniforms and went to a Jewish summer camp. Clothing choices were limited: Plaid and corduroy. It wasn't until middle school and a move to Indiana that my fashion horizons broadened, which I know seems like a bit of a stretch. That's when I learned about denim- Jordache, Guess and Calvin Klein. Polo shirts (with horses!) and a little store called "The Limited" Those are good memories, and every minute babysitting to make money for my fashion choices was worth it.
And fashion wasn't always about the money you spent, it was about a look. You could make it your own and that was half of the fun, if not more. Even Pier One was selling clothes, you could be boho-chic...who knew? We were layering- skirts and leggings, one top on top of another top...style exploration and evolution.
It really is true when they say style always comes back around, good or bad.
But for me, where it all began was with a handbag.
I remember being in third grade and my mother deciding I was old enough to walk around an outdoor shopping center by myself.
Judge later, for now follow along.
I had birthday money to spend (thank you to whoever gave it to me) and there was a store called Fashion Bug. My choices were pretty limited, it was either there or Hills Department Store. On that day my birthday money and I went to Fashion Bug and I got my first handbag,
It was beautiful. It had wooden handles and the body of the bag was fabric and the handles and the body had buttons so you could change out the fabric and have A WHOLE NEW HANDBAG. It was THE BEST.
That bag set me up for future failure, or success- depending on how you look at it. You could save your money and get a new pattern or color, swap it out and it was like you always had a new bag. Which, many years later leads to always wanting a new bag.
Personally, I don't see that as a problem. (My daughters may someday when they inherit a bunch of bags and wait around for the punch line, but there isn't one. Sorry guys, mommy loves you)
While my style has evolved and changed over the years, along with my shopping options (thank you www.everyretailerever) I can tell you this- I still think about that bag.
Moral of the fashion story- there isn't one. If the shoe fits, wear it. If buying the bag doesn't mean your electric doesn't get shut off, buy it.
(This is why no one ever, ever turns to me for advice)