Years ago, when I was still married, my husband and I spent a weekend in NYC. During a stroll on 5th Avenue, despite my husband being right by my side, I fell in love. It was an unusual occurrence because I’d never really lusted before for a designer handbag, but there was something about that green bag that completely attracted my attention. Until I saw the price, that is – $435. As if.
Fast forward to a few weeks later. Hubby and I were out for a bike ride when he received a phone call from one of his brothers informing him that their mother’s “estate” had some more money to disburse to each of the siblings, more than enough for that handbag that I was still thinking about, actually. At this point he was riding a very nice bicycle which he had purchased with his inheritance, so I didn’t feel out of line when I said “You know, your mother would want me to have that bag…”
He generously agreed with a laugh and I placed the order as soon as we got home. Two days later “she” arrived nestled in her dust bag within a large box. Having that bag in my hand made me feel like a grown up in a whole new way. Yes, it was indulgent and materialistic, but it was also a simply beautiful piece of leather goods and I loved owning it.
Since that initial purchase, there have been several more love affairs between me and Kate Spade. My collection of handbags has become a bit of a signature for me and I received more than a half -dozen notifications when the news of her death broke earlier this week. The thrill of taking one of those bags out of its protective dust cover has yet to fade, no matter how many years they’ve been in my closet, and I’m sorry that I never took the time to tell her how special they make me feel. She will be missed.
