Handbags have my heart.

I think it would be fair to say that I enjoy the finer things in life, especially when it comes to handbags…

My need to have the “best” started at quite a young age, demanding sparkly shoes and whatnot. However it was at the age of 16 that I upped the ante and my obsession for handbags truly begun. It was around the time of the “Wag intrusion” they were all over the newspapers and so were their bags. One in particular caught my eye. The Chloe Paddington. It was relatively small, made of real leather and had a padlock on it. It also came with quite a price tag. One that sadly, as an unemployed, just finished school and unable to save my pocket money, 16 year old I wasn’t going to afford. Thank goodness for parents hey. The day I was given that bag was one I will never forget. I’d just started college and my dad picked me up from the train station. I opened the car door to see a beige Chloe dust bag on the front seat. I screamed. He jumped. I grabbed the dust bag and delved in. There she was, in her chocolate brown glory. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The padlock was shiny and had a leather rim that said Chloe on it. She also smelt amazing, there’s nothing quite like the smell of a brand new bag. I felt like I’d given birth. She was my baby and I wasn’t going to let ANYTHING happen to her. From that moment onwards she would be super-glued to my arm, pride of place. I stared at her the entire journey home (it was only 5 minutes but still I’m easily distracted.) The next day heads turned. The bag was eye catching. People were clearly jealous. I was loving it! Ever since that day I wanted to own the “it” bag of the season.

Fast forward a couple of years and it was the summer before I started uni, I was on holiday in Marbella. There was a shop in Puerto Banus called 007, it had a white Guess bag in the window which I recognised as I had previously seen it advertised in Vogue. I needed it. The eyelashes worked their magic and fluttered constantly until my Dad caved in and made the purchase. The lady went to put it in the dust bag, I told her not to bother and wacked it straight on my arm. It was pristine and amazing. I got the same buzz that I got from the Chloe, but even more so (probably because I was in a hot country.) Let’s skip another year and I was now at uni, which I hated. It wasn’t my friend. The only thing I liked about it was its closeness to West Quay. Instead of going to lessons that would depress me, I’d go shopping, which would make me smile. First week back of year 2 and I was feeling low. I didn’t want to be there, I longed to leave, but I wasn’t allowed. So to cheer myself up I bought a bag. This time it was a Ted Baker beauty. Once again, it was made of real leather and smelt lovely. It worked, the bag cheered me up and I used it as an incentive to attend uni. A good few hundred pounds well spent, thank you student loan! I honestly believe that if it wasn’t for that bag I would have dropped out and not achieved my degree. Now, don't get me wrong, the Ted Baker was lovely, but it wasn’t an “it” bag. I hadn’t seen celebs with it and it wasn’t in magazines, but I had my eye on a new one...

Step forward the Louis Vuitton Limited Edition Monogram Vernis Alma GM (the bigger version) in gold. It was breath-taking. It put all my other bags to shame. I’d never seen anything like it. I needed one. But the price tag was eye-watering. It cost more than several of my friend’s cars. Christ! I’d never been deprived growing up, but I thought I may had been pushing it too far that time. After all it was, just, a bag. Anyway it was nearing Christmas so I put in some ground-work regardless. Mentioning here and there about how much I loved it, dropping hints like pictures of it around the house, you know really subtle stuff… ahem!  Christmas came and went and I didn’t get the bag. This made me a little blue, but I wasn’t overly surprised so it was ok. And anyway, I was going to New York in January and little old me “Emma I-Spend-Everything-I-Earn-And-Even-More Jamieson” had only gone and saved enough for the bag and the matching purse. I had NEVER saved for anything in my life before, but boy was I determined to be the owner of this beauty.

I pretty much headed to the Louis Vuitton shop on 5^th Avenue straight after getting off the plane. I’d visited before and loved the building (it was windows covered in the LV logo all in different colours.) I hadn’t been that bothered by it last time, but this time it was my haven. It was the home of THE bag. I walked in and I saw it immediately. I scanned, but I couldn’t see the colour I wanted. Bugger. I asked the sales assistant who clearly thought I wasn’t serious about buying one and he told me the gold version I had so desperately wanted was a special edition, only 1000 were made and they had all been sold. My world shattered. The bag I had lusted over for months was not going to be mine after all. I pondered about getting the bright pink version instead, but it just wasn’t the same. So instead I blew all that money I’d worked so hard on saving on clothes, make up, Uggs and crap! Once again shopping had come to the rescue for mending my broken heart. I returned to England rather glum, not only was I suffering from the dreaded post-New York blues, but I was also bag-less. Life seemed so cruel. A couple of months passed and I found myself in March and still unable to stop thinking about the bag, so once again I put in some ground work just before my birthday, not expecting anything to come from it, but living in hope (I didn’t bother with pictures this time, they knew what it looked like after my attempts at Christmas!) We went to Dubai for my Mum’s birthday at the beginning of April and went into every LV shop that we came across. They were teasing me, asking me to look at colours, walk around the shop with it on my arm and then not buying me one. It was horrible. I hated them for it.

Anyway along come the morning of 20^th April 2009. My mum and dad knocked at my door, I was angry at them for doing so because I didn’t have uni until mid-day so there was no need to be waking me up at 9am. They entered the room and I was being grumpy because they’d woken me up. My dad had a huge, I mean an enormous, box in his arms which he put at the end of my bed. “There’s no way we could hide this so you can have it now.” Huh? I was so confused, what was he on about? I sat up and looked at the box; it had LV all over it. My heart literally stopped. Could it be? Had they bought me the bag? Surely not? It was super expensive and I hadn’t done anything extra ordinary to deserve such a bag. I hadn’t passed any major exams, in fact I’d failed quite a few. Maybe it was just a horrible joke they were playing on me and it was a big Jack-in-a-box or something. Anyway I grabbed the box and tried to get into it regardless. I managed to open it, after breaking a nail, fml. I started shaking. It was the bag. They’d bought me the bag. In a stunning violet colour. It was beyond beautiful. Words couldn’t (and still can’t) explain it. I took it out and stared in awe. I totally forgot my parents who had bought it for me were in the room and I hadn’t even said thanks yet! (I may sometimes be spoilt, but I am always grateful. I was bought up to have manners and I hate people who don’t have any - but that's a total other blog!) I said a huge thank you and then went back to dribbling over the bag. And they hadn’t just got me the bag but the matching purse as well. I felt like I was on cloud 9, a violet monogrammed patent leather Louis Vuitton cloud 9! I went to uni that afternoon clutching my beautiful present and feeling somewhat like Victoria Beckham, I was obviously rocking the over-sized sunglasses as well. Once again heads turned, this time even more so. The bag was HUGE. It was shiny and it was simply amazing. I walked in and people knew. I’d been going on about how much I longed for the bag for months, (surprisingly no one had told me to shut up about it, bless them they were such a lovely bunch at uni) and now I had it. It was there, in the flesh, on my frigging arm. Get in! It wasn’t long before I was known to many as “the girl with the bag.” That made, and still does make, me smile! That bag was and still is my pride of joy. I don’t use her as much as I should; she now comes out just for special occasions, instead of an everyday kind of bag. But I still get butterflies when I step out the front door with her. She really is special!

Sadly since my Louis, I haven’t had another ridiculously extravagant bag. But, fear not my birthday is coming up and my next conquest is a Mulberry, or a Chanel. Actually why stop at one? I’ll have them both. Thanks!...