I’m not a couture whore. I don’t care much for name brands. I can’t fathom spending an amount in the triple digits for shoes, or a purse, or really anything (other than jewelry, of course — jewelry, I get). I can appreciate a pretty bag, but I don’t really covet something when I can take that amount and get seven less expensive, equally cute pieces.
Despite my general ambivalence to the fancy stuff, I do have a weakness. A brand I can’t help but fawn over. A brand that has made me wonder, “Maybe I’ll buy a fake one,” but the one fake purse I own (a Coco Chanel), still cost $40, and it started to fall apart. (No joke, when I say I’m cheap, I mean you won’t get me to spend more than $20 on a purse — I like switching them up too often to commit more money or time to one bag.)
The brand? Dooney & Bourke.
The colors, the textures, the patterns — they all get me. (I still love the two patterns that were popular when I was in high school: the bumble bee one and the heart one.)
As such, when I go into a store that carries D&B, I browse. I touch, if they’re not behind glass. I find knock-off kiosks and finger the fakes, and think, “You know, you like this enough, you should really pick a pattern and just friggin’ buy it.”
But I don’t. Because I’m cheap.
My friend Sara recently brought me into her closet. It was the most organized closet I’d ever seen in my life. And it was full of gorgeous shoes and purses. Now, she wears a 5 1/2, so you can imagine what it looked like when I, just for funsies, attempted to put a sexkitten heel on my whopper size 10s. (I am bigfoot, rawr!)
And the purses? All butter-soft leather Kate Spades, and giant hobo-sized Coaches and … oh dear. Like half a dozen Dooney & Bourkes. All I could say? “Shit, girl!”
On Tuesday, Sara came over. I made her dinner, because we’d been trying to get together sans boys for a while (her husband is the beau’s bestie). Before she came, she sent me a cryptic Facebook message: “Light blue or purple?” I’ve been on a purple kick as of late, so I responded with that. I figured … flowers? Some kitchy earrings she picked up someplace?
She walked in and handed me one of those giant pink Victoria’s Secret bag. And in it was one of these. With a matching wallet.
“You’re kidding me.”
“No, it’s yours!” she told me. “I used the crap out of it, but I haven’t touched it in years. I’m running out of space in my closet. I should probably give you the light blue one, too.”
So I’m carrying around a purple Dooney & Burke barrel bag in fabulous condition. I can now easily see why this brand is so much more than, oh, every other purse I own. Because it looks brand new. Sara used this for a LONG time, and it does not show a bit of wear. The zipper works perfectly. The little gold logo heart has barely a scratch on it. The material is unmarred.
And yet, I feel like a fraud. I don’t deserve this! The purse I was using yesterday came from JC Penney! It was shiny mustard yellow! (And super cute. This one, actually. Which you can see was sold at Good Will for $5.)
Despite the fraudulant feelings, when I look at my pretty purse, it makes me smile. (Easily amused people are the happiest people in the world.)
Do you do the fancypants purses? Is it the style, name or construction that gets you?