I'm Pockets

Two stories.

One. A couple of years ago we owned The Perfect Bag. It was a square, brown, shoulder strap bag from EMS that was the exact right size for carrying what two minimalist packers might need for a day out. When we brought it to Italy, it was all we needed for a day's worth of culture absorption and aimless strolling. The clincher was that it was completely unisex - a must in our household because I really, really hate carrying bags. I've never had a daily pocketbook or purse, or even wallet; honestly, I just stuff a few credit cards, keys, and cell phone into pants pockets and go. For the times when a bag was needed, Misha could carry this one without needing to explain that it was European. So what happened? Someone (read: me) lost the bag. I have no idea where, but I know for certain that it was me. First I spilled bleach on it, then I lost it, and now EMS no longer makes it.

Two. Misha loves cargo pants. Let me rephrase that - Misha loves cargo. When I first met him in college, he was obsessed with the safari-photographer-style vest that Banana Republic used to carry (you know, back when that store's name had some kind of relevance to the products they carried). I steadfastly held out against the vest, and so when cargo pants suddenly became cool, he was in pocket heaven (this might have had something to do with my aversion to carrying stuff. See above). I like the look, but have to admit that the allure of having some object bang against your leg repeatedly as you walk escapes me. In any case, whenever he put on a particular favorite dark blue pair, he would announce, "I'm Pockets," and would load himself with all my stuff. Sadly, those pants went the way of all flesh and were relegated to my refashioning pile.

But happily, they have turned into this: my very first bag ever. It's not even close to The Perfect Bag, nor even to a perfect bag. But still, it works, it's got metal thingies holding the straps on, and from now on, it's Pockets.