My Black Suede Handbag – A Saga Is Born

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Today I discovered the sensuality of suede. I’d slipped out of the office at lunchtime to buy a bag for an evening function at work, all my existing ones having been ravished by the dog, my child, or my own carelessness. I’d intended to simply pick something serviceable and multifunctional, but an obliging saleslady had introduced me to a neat, sleek, elegant black suede handbag that got me hooked on suede the moment I handled it. From that moment onwards, my black suede handbag became my newest best friend.

When it was time to go home, I tucked my new black suede handbag under my arm and walked out with a new spring in my step.

As I passed the handbag shop, I gazed at the displays, unconsciously stroking my black suede handbag reassuringly like a new puppy I was taking home for the first time. Then I saw it. THAT was my next purchase!

It was only when I saw the alarmed expression of the man walking past me that I realized that I had muttered aloud to the bag under my arm, “That’s your new brother! See? The brown suede handbag on the left shelf? He’ll be home with us soon.”

I flushed, looked down at the pavement steadfastly, and hurried to the bus stop, black suede bag choking to death in an unbreakable armpit clamp.

The Saga Begins: Our Struggle For Survival.

Safely seated on the bus, I loosened my deathlike grip on the bag, then had a frightening thought. What if I was SWEATING? And with that, I started to sweat profusely. I released the bag immediately and grabbed at it with the other hand to see what damage had been done. At that moment, a motorcyclist swung in front of the bus. The bus driver swerved viciously and slammed on the brakes. The bag went skidding down the isle! “My black suede handbag!” I yelled in breaking hysteria. Every face turned to me in astonishment and umpteen hands flew out to rescue the slithering bag. I retrieved it hurriedly from an outstretched hand and regained my seat, once again flushing in shame.

Once home, my attempts to smuggle it into a place of safety proved fruitless. “You got a new thingy!” yelled one of the kids. “It’s NOT a thingy – it’s a black suede handbag! Leave it!” The dog smelled it and started to lift his leg. He escaped neutering by a hair’s breadth.

My black suede handbag eventually scored a safe resting place, which I will not reveal at this time. Rest assured, it WILL be protected. It’s not just a bag, it’s an ally. It’s my black suede handbag.

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Swayed To Suede My New Suede Handbag

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All I wanted was a handbag. Quick in and out. The dog had eaten the handle from one of my meagre collection, my little child had poured juice into another one, and I had allowed chocolate to melt in a third bag. There was a work-related event one evening the following week, which, it was made abundantly clear, I was expected to attend.

I slipped out of the office during my lunch break with every intention of getting something more-or-less acceptable with little or no fuss. The saleslady was ever so obliging. What, I asked naively, would be a good overall kind of style that would LOOK acceptable under most circumstances?

I picked up a few, turned them over, stroked them without much interest, then looked about vaguely.

“What about this little black suede handbag,” asked the lady?

It pricked my interest immediately. I touched it, I stroked it, pressed it, fondled it – and I was hooked!

Suede” and “Persueded!” My New Suede Handbag!

It was perfect! Neat and sleek, big enough for the essentials, not too big for a dressy occasion. Neat little pockets to divide contents. But it wasn’t the style that I was hooked on. It was the suede. My suede handbag instantly became my new best friend, my sensual comforter!

I hugged it, I clutched it, I squeezed it all the way back to the office. The traffic and the pedestrian crush was harsh – but my suede handbag was gentle. The lunchtime noise was jarringly irritating, but my suede handbag was soothing and comforting. The work environment was unforgiving, but my suede handbag nuzzled me reassuringly. Sleek as a panther, gentle as a kitten

Back at the office, I placed it down gently – then moved it, and moved it again. Nowhere seemed safe enough. I spent the afternoon being as over protective as a new mother. “Just leave those on my desk, but mind my suede handbag!” “I appreciate the coffee, but DON’T put it near my suede handbag!”

I wouldn’t say that I’m obsessive about it, but if the dog attempts to chew my new suede handbag the way he did that old bag, he is very likely to become a suede handbag himself! (Tempting thought! He’d be so cuddly, with no bad habits! No, don’t go there…anyway, he wouldn’t match much.)

So there you have it. All I wanted was a handbag, a purse, something to clutch relentlessly at a function that wouldn’t be fun. Instead, I acquired a secret friend, a comforter for any occasion. I wasn’t the life of the party, but I will say this: I purred my way through that function with a new-found confidence that amazed my colleagues.

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