Some times I feel a bit...well...old.
Especially this week when my son turned 16. How could my
baby be 16?! We are going to get his driver's permit next week. Ahhh.
Or, when I'm introduced to my husband's colleague who reveals in the course of our conversation that he graduated college in 2001. Wasn't that, like, yesterday? I gasp. How is he a grown-up, accomplished professional-type guy and graduated in this millennium? I sound old even to myself.
But age has its advantages too. In my early forties vs. my early twenties, I don't wake up hung over after doing beer bongs in smelly frat house basements. I don't buy used-cars based solely on how cool they look and then continually find my
cool ass stranded on the side of the road.
And I think I have a little more character than I did in my misspent youth. I don't even mind how my years have made smile lines (I like to refer to them as "smile lines" instead of crows feet) around my eyes (mostly, occasionally I panic a little as I scrape the bottom of my Oil of Olay bottle). I think this applies to well-made leather bags too.
Last week at my favorite thrift store I came across this vintage Coach lady's attache-shaped leather bag.
I think it has gained character in its years, the leather buttery soft and supple. And a customer in New York City agreed with me, she bought it an hour after I put it on my site.
And this vintage Stone Mountain leather slouchy bag was in the same bin at the thrift store. It hasn't sold yet, but I'm not sure I'm disappointed about that - might need to keep it for myself.
In fact, I think I will wear my old bag with pride - along with my crows feet -- while I'm teaching my son to drive and telling him the story of how in my day I didn't even have a car but had to walk to school uphill, both ways.
