Some may say I’m a bit of a pack rat. Others would disagree – they would insist I’m a full-fledged hoarder.
I have a difficult time throwing things away. What if I need that item again? What if the Clothes Tag Patrol or the Receipt Police stop by and need to see the paperwork?
Or, perhaps someday I’ll want to make a collage out of all those ticket stubs from every event I’ve ever attended. Plus, as a former teacher, I know that nearly any item can be “re-purposed” in a million different ways.
The problem is that once the item is stashed out of sight, it’s out of mind. The chances I’d ever think to track it down are slim to none, and yet I still save and stash and collect.
Objects of Affection
When I toss something, I feel as though the memory or emotion attached to that item is discarded, too. Whenever I experience something – be it fabulous and fun, or tough and tragic – I think “I’ll always remember this feeling.” But the older I get, the more difficult it is to remember all the events, experiences, and emotions that mark my life. Having a tangible object attached to the experience helps. So if it doesn’t stink or attract bugs, it typically ends up in the “keep” pile!
Recently, when tasked with moving after nearly seven years in the same house, among the possessions to clear out were close to 30 purses. I acquired and used most during my time in this house, but had also brought along a few from a prior move.
And have I mentioned that because I like to carry a lot of things, my purses tend to be on the gigantic side? Not only is the bag’s capacity important, but the more pockets, sections, and dividers, the better! More places to stuff my stuff!
As I cleaned and packed for the recent move, I tackled my mountain of handbags, each full of would-be discarded miscellany, removing essentials (wallets, keys, good makeup, etc.) to transfer into the new bag.
My worn handbags were now destined for new owners and a new home, via Goodwill. But what I thought would be a few minutes of dumping papers into the trash and boxing up items for donation became hours of reminiscing, remembering, and reliving various periods of time in my life. I found myself sifting through 20 time capsules, each with its daily artifacts.
Bag Ladies
Men need their wallet, keys, and little else.
Women need: a mobile command and communications center, work desk, mini-beauty salon, fashion-emergency kit, medicine cabinet, snack bar, bank, and a youth-entertainment center – all wrapped up in a portable leather or fabric satchel.
As I emptied each bag, I was witness to the details of the three- or four-month period of my life when I used that particular purse. Medical and career issues, travel adventures and good times with friends, family and life events of any sort – all was captured in one little (or not-so-little) bag.
I also discovered photos, photos, and more photos, hotel keys that took me back to sunny vacations, magazine clips reminding me of hairstyles I’d coveted, my well-used Walkman, old cell phone chargers and the phones themselves.
I even found an address book! Remember those?
Other finds left me wistful: a jewelry receipt from my anniversary band, broken watches, an empty Tiffany box; ticket stubs from Major League baseball, not to mention college football, movies, and concerts.
There were food journals and Weight Watchers recipe cards, recalling my weight-loss journey from obesity to a healthy and fit size 6. Even my career course left breadcrumbs – project notes, meeting agendas, and iterations of business cards.
Those cards? They track another journey: from health care recruiter when I entered this house, to professional writer as I close its doors behind me.
Looking Back
Seven years and 20 purses later, there’s much to remember.
I find sympathy cards expressing condolences for my mother’s passing, an event that took place shortly before we moved into this house. I remember that Mom had a similar affection for purses; we found a sizable stockpile in her closet when we cleared it out. Her handbags were part of her identity. Her very last one was full of minutiae and remained in my sister’s car for months after Mom died.
Also in my handbag archives: paperwork from our builder and the specs on our home, along with related contracts and receipts, bringing me back to the days, 7-8 years ago, of planning and designing every detail of our dream home. Those dreams that are now interrupted. I moved into this house a (relatively) young and married woman, hoping to fill the rooms with friends and children, growing old together, and living the American dream.
Instead I’m moving out of the house alone, now on my own, separated and soon-to-be divorced. I’m still hopeful for the future, although I don’t have any blueprint or framework as to how tomorrow may look.
I’ll let you know how it goes a few years from now, when I revisit and reflect upon this period of my life, via the leftover contents in my silver leather Cole-Haan.
© Andrea Clement Santiago
Andrea Clement Santiago is a career advice columnist, writer, and communications professional. Her background in medical sales, training, and healthcare recruiting led to her role as the Guide to Health Careers for About.com, an IAC company. She has contributed to books, journals, websites and has made media appearances on television and radio in her capacity as a healthcare career expert. She writes about her experience as an adult orphan on her blog, No Parents No Problem. Learn more about Andrea here. Follow Andrea on Twitter at @AndreaSantiago, or connect with her on LinkedIn.
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Oooh, I LOVED this. I don’t know what woman wouldn’t empathize seriously with our bag conundrum and will be curious as to what DPOC’s male readers will be…
I fear I am worse off than you, Andrea. Because I can’t even bring myself to get rid of those time capsules and so they sit, collecting dust, ghostly reminders of lives that have absolutely zero resemblance to my present day one…Let’s just say that I know longer need alligator clutches (of which I have several) to walk the puppers in the country!
But I do like to visit them from time to time, just like my high heels and mistily think, “Thank you for your little part in bringing me to here.”
Thank you Heather – like you said, purging purses does not come easily for me either. If I hadn’t been forced to do so by the relocation, and the drastic reduction in space at my new place, I could have easily held on to the bags for decades! But it was an absolute necessity this week, unfortunately. 🙁 However, between you and me, I did manage to keep a select few and relocate them to the new habitat! 🙂
Andrea, I must confess to being almost as fond of my purses as my shoes… Now you know why I love this piece of writing so much! So happy to have you here.
Andrea, I had a similar experience a couple of months ago. I decided to rid my closet of old purses. What I thought would take half an hour ended up being a two hour journey back through time. A lot has happened in the ten years since moving into this house and, like you I found a lot of memories filed away in those old purses.
And what did I find in one of them? My copy of A Southern Belle Primer that I had lost a few years back.
BLW – I’m thrilled to be here as well. And Cathy how funny that we had the same book stowed away! I needed a primer because my Mid-western parents were not schooled in raising Southern Belles. 🙂
This could have been my post, except I feel I’m changing. With less than half my life likely in front of me, I almost have the feeling that the time and brain cells given over to hanging on to my past are used up or sacrificed. More and more I’m thinking I want to focus on now or on the future, on learning new things and continuing to improve my life. I’ve come to realise that I haven’t always differentiated between good and sad memories, I’ve clung to them all. One of Jane Austen’s books I recently re read had the heroine advising only to look back on those memories that give satisfaction. I remember plenty about my life, I think. If I need a memento, perhaps it isn’t that worth remembering?
All of you should read Vicki Archer’s post today. Quite similar. Oh, how I love my handbags. But the only one with ANYTHING in it is the one I use at that moment. Otherwise, I put all that other stuff into a big drawer knowing I will need all of it later on. It’s difficult for me to toss our receipts from the supermarket, don’t know why. And, I was just thinking about the man/woman wallet/bag thing the other day…but whether we put all that stuff into our bags is really irrelevant, it’s about the BAG, isn’t it? And, I think “why do we need all this stuff?” When I go out at night all I take is my AMEX, phone & lipgloss, and maybe a few $$ for tipping. Also, I’ve found that if I keep a little cross-body bag inside my big day-time bag, just whip it out to run in and pick up dry cleaning, etc. My biggest problem is like Heather’s, I really don’t live the lifestyle I used to and have absolutely no need for all these bags, but guess what my only purchases for April have been so far….that’s right, 2 awesome bags.
I keep trying to go smaller and smaller – being more and more concise and holding more and more information in my phone or i-pad – and yet my possessions still cause me suspicion as the one I’m looking for is impossible to find unless I’m not looking for it, like later, when it’s the first thing my foraging fingers lite upon. What is that conspiracy about? What a fun read this was – I’m not a collector – but I can still relate.
Andrea…. I hear you so loudly… This is very timely for me.. I am packing up and moving on after ten years… not a lifetime but long enough to accumulate a new life.
I am trying to embrace the change… forget the past and welcome the future… but those reminders seem to grab me by the throat … and threaten me… Take me or else…
Lovely post… xv
P.S The bags never go!
Shelley’s above comment about wanting to “focus on now or on the future” rather than “hanging on to [her] past” resonates with me. While my past has been glorious in so many ways (and I have no intention of forgetting it), I should devote my time and inner resources to, as Shelley so aptly wrote, “learning new things and continuing to improve my life.” These thoughts will be my bywords as I continue what so far has been a long, arduous process of reconciling myself to leaving, and preparing to leave, the home in which my family has lived for 27.5 years. (I’ll be thinking of you, Vicki!)
Please keep us posted on how you do with that move, Leslie. I can only imagine it will be emotional, but also in some ways, very freeing. Wishing you luck.
Andrea, while I do not have a purse, or even a murse, I understand. Recalling events and especially details fade over time. Objects and especially pictures seem to trigger memories for me as well. That said multiple moves and a divorce caused me to lose most of these items and photographs. What is really strange is what we remember and how. I was in an airport and at 6 playing hockey against the great Tretiak, on whom I scored. The event was captured by a photographer and in the newspaper. What do I remember? Notions of I scored on Tretiak (but not the specific event), notion that was when I decided I wanted to be a professional athlete, and the image in the newspaper. That’s it.
Even some things that transpired as an adult are foggy. Before you throw anything out perhaps scan or photograph them to trigger memories. It might be fun to review them in future.
Things represent and stimulate memories. So the question becomes, how much do we want to invest in looking back and how much do we want to be looking forward. I have a lot of memories. My wife (as I’ve posted before) looks forward, so this is not a gender thing, although I don’t collect handbags, thank you. I can find it difficult to move things out and along, but am happily surprised that afterwards I don’t miss them at all. You need to get Fran on this — she’s very persuasive. Also, she is always finding new things for us to do (I do my share toward this also — she is always game for something), so there’s no time to miss things. My assignment on a hike yesterday was to bring back a bag of stinging nettles. Wash and saute them and they’re fine (gloves for collecting, of course), so we made a meal of the wicked things (revenge), mixed with fresh radishes (they become mild when cooked).
I do prize old friends more than Fran and make a point of staying in contact, but I don’t need “stuff” to help me do that. I take pictures of everything. but never look at them.
Andrea, you are so gifted. I love your post, and yes, I drove around with mom’s purse in my car for almost a year! I love how you have the ability to write so effortlessly about such heavy topics. Your wit and humor are entertaining and I can’t wait to read your next story.
Andrea: Interesting post. Your words remind me of an exercise conducted by one of my professors – He asked if anyone would like to share the contents of their purse to the class. I volunteered and my classmates formulated a story based on the contents of my purse. What we keep and what we purge – always revealing. I enjoyed your post. Thanks!