My Bag And My Back Problems

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I finally got around to using a massage gift certificate I had this past weekend, to which I found myself complaining to my masseuse about pain I’ve been having in my upper right shoulder. And after a very painful massage, yes I said painful … my masseuse questioned me about my “purse preferences.” Purse preferences? Psshh. I then hung my head in shame and uttered, “I like big bags … and dammit … I cannot lie.”

After getting the news that my massive commuter bag is giving me back problems at age 27, I realized I needed to take inventory. Like I’ve said in past posts, I feel as a public transportation user, I need to carry a large purse. Since I no longer have my car to throw copious amounts of useless shit that I may or may not need, I now need a bag to fill that void. Hence the back probs.

So after taking inventory, I realized my bag is a hot, unorganized mess. Shocking. No wonder when looking for a specific lip gloss I have to play the blind game of feeling around in my bag, also know as the cave of wonders, that goes a little something like, “nope, Rite Aid receipt … nope, wrong color … nope, bangles I told myself I would put on when I got to work and never did … nope, about $100 worth of change since my wallet doesn’t have a change purse … nope … ANOTHER Rite Aid receipt.”

I starred at the abyss of nonsense for a while, until I came to an important realization. It isn’t about downgrading my shit, it was about organizing it. And with organization comes weeding out the nonsense that no longer serves you … like 23 Rite Aid receipts, for the love. But, more importantly not to overwhelm, it is about identifying your three major purse problems. Here are mine, this is my confession:


Problem 1: I have a lip gloss/lip stick problem
Who doesn’t. It used to just be lip glosses until I discovered how ultimately fantastic NARS lipstick makes a woman feel. And now I’m stuck with over 10 options, freely roaming in my purse so I truly can never find the color I want. Hell, do I even know all my color options I have at this point? Absolutely not. Because some get wrapped in receipts and then I don’t even know they exist! Sheesh.
Solution: Invest in a makeup pouch. And not just any makeup pouch. A fantastic, sparkly Stephanie Johnson makeup pouch that will make me WANT to pull it out of your bag so I can calmly and collectively pull the right color my heart desires. Oh, also, maybe not carry around 5 of the same lip gloss shade. Just sayin’ self.

Problem 2: My wallet doesn’t have a change purse
I got my Zac Posen wallet at a vintage store for $25, yes $25, and loved it so much that I didn’t care that it was without a compartment for change. Still don’t. But the $100 worth of pennies, dimes, nickels , quarters, and yes, Susan B. Anthony coins at the bottom of my bag speak differently about the topic. It’s gross. It’s dirty. It’s money. It needs a damn home.

Solution: Step 1: Take said change and put it in my change mason jar on my desk at home. Step 2: And moving forward, my change will live in this lovely unconventional coin purse by Stephanie Johnson, which I’m pretty sure is a makeup pouch but I don’t care, featured above. No longer will I feel pressure of the people standing in line behind me tappin’ their toes in annoyance as I check out forcing me to just stuff my money in my wallet, throw my change and receipts in my purse and run. I will breathe and take my time. Suck on that, people who stress me out in line at a store.

Problem 3 (and I’m not proud of this one): Loose pills in my purse
I know … I know … I’m the poster child of grossness. Listen, I’m constantly in a rush, so if I have a headache, cramps, a hangover or what have you … I’ll just take some Advil and throw it in my bag. Easy, right? No, totally gross and awful, actually. Think of the pill and change combo at the bottom of my bag … ugh :::shakes head in shame::: (Disclaimer: I never give people these pills even if they are in dire need. I’m not that awful)
Solution: Meet a pill box! And not one of those Mon-Sun plastic boxes you would find at your local pharmacy next to the Bengay and canes. I’m talking about original, vintage pill boxes from the 1960’s, like the one featured above that I got off Etsy. It’s chic, it’s mysterious, a little small, but does the trick. So now if a friend has a headache, I can offer them some Advil from my chic pill bow. How fancy of me, right?

Also, I’ve vowed to never accept another receipt from Rite Aid. No, no, cashier … you keep my receipt for my $1 pack of gum. I promise I won’t return it.

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