Shoes versus bags - which side are you on?

Today I introduce you to the world's cutest bag. It's studded. It's black. It weights approximately 10 ounces. While many purses strive to be functional, this one is mostly decorative. The opening is just barely wide enough for a lipstick, my driver's license, and a credit card. And yet my love for this bag borders on obsessive. I stalked Gap.com for weeks waiting for it to come in, and my hands trembled with delight when I placed my order. It makes me inexplicably, ridiculously happy.

Since I was a little girl, I've had a thing for purses and handbags. Some people stroll through the mall and see shoes beckoning from windows, watches and jewelry glistening in cases, and hear the soft beckoning of this season's pencil skirts and cardigans. I see bags. Bags I'm thinking of buying, bags I already own, bags I can't understand, bags that could double as luggage, bags I couldn't dream of being able to afford. They sit in store windows and swing from the shoulders of shoppers, teasing me with their studs and zippers and tassels and quilting.

From canvas, to crocodile, to butter-soft leather, on and on through my daydreams they march, each more unique and coveted than the last. They haunt me, these bags. I fantasize about the sequined Marc Jacobs clutch I spied in Neiman Marcus back in September. An Urban Outfitters satchel from spring '07 is a frequent player in my fashion daydreams. And don't even get me started on 1994's Lady Dior, which makes my hands clench into ineffectual grabby-grabby fists of want.

Truthfully, as I progressed from little girl to teenager to adult, I never thought I'd stay a bag person. I always thought I'd morph into a shoe person. Shoe people are impetuous and fun and understand that fluctuating waistlines are no match for a jaunty little pair of heels. When nothing else fits, a new pair of shoes will. Shoe people read blogs like Sea of Shoes and Obsessed with Shoes, where they spend hours researching this season's ankle boots. Shoe people travel in packs and will happily spend an entire afternoon in the Saks shoe department. They talk about footwear by name: Mary Jane. Billy. Karolina. They spend afternoons obsessive-compulsively organizing their shoes according to heel height and color. And they speak the language as if they were born into it - vamp, brogues, t-strap, grommet.

Mostly, though, shoe people are willing to sacrifice their comfort and sanity for a gravity-defying pair of heels. I am not. An hour in heels transforms me into a whining cripple. But a bag would never torment me the way a pair of stilettos could. Give me J Crew's sequined, chain-strapped minaudière over a sparkling pair of pumps any day. I'd rather sling Bodkier's aggressively-zippered Howard Street satchel over my shoulder than suffer in black leather platforms. And with the coming of seventies fashion for spring, you'd better believe I'd chose a color-blocked flap bag (such as this little beauty from Marc Jacobs) over a sky-scraping pair platform sandals.

A bag doesn't require a pedicure and endless supply of band-aids. I don't have to consider hem height and hosiery. The weather forecast is of no importance in my choice of what to carry. I can walk to my closet, pick a bag off the shelf, and be done.

And now I ask you: Are you a shoe person, or a bag person? Do we need to be one or the other? And what's your favorite bag?

Forever 21 lace top; James Pearse tank (under top); Seven For All Mankind jeans; Forever 21 necklace; Nordstrom cross necklace; Gap leather bag; Steve Madden flats; Betsey Johnson gold watch

Outfit post: A snow-related freak out and a pretty little dress

Holy crap is it cold this morning. The weather forecast is predicting temperatures in the teens. I can feel cold air creeping under our doors, frigid fingers pulling at my wool socks. But it's the icy glare of wind-blown snow that makes me realize just how friggin' cold it really is.

Snow happens every damm winter, even here in Texas, and despite the efforts of the mighty news wanting to make it into a scary terrifying thing, it's not. Trust me. For days, the news has excitedly been airing footage of snow plows being driven into the city in preparation for today's three-inch snow fall. The snow will make for treacherous driving, and an ugly commute, but I assure you that this is not the pre-apocalyptic event sages have been warning us about. 

I love how people stock up for snow as if they're preparing to hunker down in an underground bunker to save themselves from a nuclear attack. People, this is not a Cormac McCarthy novel. Even if you are trapped in your house, you'll only be in there for a couple of days max. And even then, you can trudge out if you really need to. Unless you're living Ted Kazinski-style in a remote cabin in the woods without access to roads or transportation or electricity, you'll be fine. There is no need to bum rush the supermarket and empty its shelves of water and milk and toilet paper (what's up with people hoarding toilet paper before a storm? Is it that bad to wipe your ass of with Kleenex or paper towels for a day?) You know what you should stock up on? Booze, coffee, junk food, cigarettes (if you smoke) and a few frozen dinners in case you need actual nourishment.

Better yet, let me freak out for you, just so you're covered for the rest of winter:

AHHH! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? AHHHH! HOW WILL YOU CONTINUE TO LIVE??? YOUR COZY LITTLE HOMES ARE NO MATCH FOR THE APOCALYPTIC FROZEN PRECIPITATION ABOUT TO GENTLY DUST THE EARTH!!!!

I like to sit back and watch all the weather-people slowly go from cautiously restrained, to slightly optimistic, to mostly excited, to overwhelmed with snow-loving glee. Yes, yes, this is their moment. The rare time when you, and you, and you, are hanging onto their every word. You want to know...how much, and for how long, and how bad the snow will be. They'll be out in parkas, and galoshes, amidst all the snow drifts regaling us with stories and tales of snow-related nonsense. They will excitedly show you the meteorological storm guidance tracks. All the "snow bands" and "arctic blasts" flowing in from the West, the North. They will twitch and snicker and make snow jokes. They will feel so important. So very, very important. It is their moment in the sun. The one thing they live for, short of a tsunami hitting Florida. Yes, friends, this is their nirvana.

So yeah, I am a little testy with being stuck in the house with my kids while getting over a sinus infection. Luckily I have a favorite dress to cheer me up, which I strategically layered to keep warm.

Forever 21 denim jacket; hand-me-down See by Chloe dress; Michael Stars long sleeved tee; Hue tights; Frye boots; Nordstrom necklace; Betsey Johnson watch

 

Snow chickens and cardigans

Ah, winter. Season of frozen fingertips, meager daylight hours, and lost gloves. I am not a fan of Old Man Winter. The arrival of cold weather typically zaps my energy until I discover a hidden stash of Halloween candy in the back of the pantry, which I chew through and immediately feel disgusting. Then I try to decide whether I want to clean out my closet, or mop, or dust the whole house (all at the same time) or reorganize the pantry, or catch up on TV episodes I recorded six months ago. Orrrr...hibernate like a furry woodland creature.

There's a lot to be said about mid-winter days. It's undeniably fun to be cozy, and to snuggle deep into down throws, and to drink hot toddies, and break out all those clothes like Uggs and woolly scarves and coats. That is truly the highlight of the season, as far as I'm concerned. Dragging out your favorite boots + sweaters from last year is super fun, although I always image that they are understandably bitter after being put out of sight during the hot summer months, tucked silently into the dark reaches of your closet with only a missing glove and frayed scarf to keep them company. I suspect my winter clothes are especially irritable because they know that deep down I resent them, a little, because they represent the endless blustery Iowa winters.

Aside from releasing the warm clothes from storage, the really good thing about winter is crouching near a blazing fire listening to the wind blow and knowing I don't have to be out in it. My Dallas suburb was blanketed by five inches of snow on Sunday, and I found great pleasure in watching my kids construct a rather impressive snow chicken (no snowmen for our family! We're wacky like that) while I huddled inside. The snow did give me the opportunity to break out my favorite super warm cardigan, an activity that provided a much needed boost to my mood.

Gap cardigan, Michael Stars long-sleeved tee; Gap Outlet jeggings; Michael Kors boots; Nordstrom necklace; vintage Coach satchel; Forever 21 belt; ancient gold huggie earrings.