It wasn't too long ago I acquired a Vivienne Westwood bowling bag - my treasure. I even christened it Viv; and when Viv wasn't tucked in her cotton monogrammed covering, her handles were wrenched grannylike in the crook of my arm. Viv wasn't just a bag, she was a stylish keeper of secrets - from receipts to schedules, make-up and stealth purchases - zipped dutifully from the public eye. You can therefore imagine my confusion upon reading in this month's Vogue that Viv and I are all but 'déclassé' and 'démodé'. Handbags are now subject to a new set of rules which are ironically louche.Thou 'now' shalt 'wear' thine bag; rather than carry it. Zips shall remain open as shall clasps and buttons. Never do, 'trophy', 'big' and 'stuffed' - too gauche and by all means ditch the handles, lest you be tarred and feathered.
This was all too much for me. A bit of lower back pain and carpel tunnel syndrome never hurt anyone. And then I read on... Not only am I being encouraged to ditch Viv P. Hilton-style; but I now must learn the methodology behind 'wearing' one's bag. There's the Scramble, The Dangle, The Cuddle and The Twiddle. I can't help but thinking if it's conjugation applies in similar manner to that of Twitter. If I Twiddled, did I twaddle or have I twiddled? Great, now I've got to add Strunk and White into the debacle. Who knows, maybe Conde Nast have a copy of The Elements of Style?
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