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You Never Forget Your First Love: a Holiday Memory

Posted On: Dec 6, 2018   |   Posted By: Purse

Before the days of Instagram influencers and online shopping, and back when I was still wearing nineties Disney leggings that had been picked out for me, my mother carried a nondescript brown handbag wherever we went.
I cannot fully remember what it looked like. I only remember that it felt like comfort. It was a cavernous, Mary Poppins-worthy wonder and despite appearing compact, it held stamps for post office errands, a mini first aid kit, candy to placate me during long car rides in our family Chrysler, and a diverse portfolio of coupons for supermarket jaunts. The bag suited my mother in every way-it was sensible, wholly unselfconscious, and equipped to patch me up when I fell on the playground.
Until we moved to an affluent neighborhood before I started middle school, that utilitarian brown handbag formed my entire impression of what a handbag was, and what a handbag should be.
Until we moved to an affluent neighborhood before I started middle school, that utilitarian brown handbag formed my entire...

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