Patiently waiting with 0% phone battery for a friend to meet me outside the most agreeably unassuming Thai restaurant in Nolita last night, I had fifteen unedited minutes to study the bevy of people walking up and down the restaurant’s street. I noticed more high heels than I thought I would on a Wednesday night, a lot of misplaced faux-fur, peg leg jeans (later referred to as “fat knee pants” by the tardy friend in question,) exposed striped socks and a decent haul of stark white handbags.
Floating among dark overcoats and even darker pants, they were the single bright redeeming quality in what looked like a large black abyss of camouflage-into-the-night. It was elegant. Very young had I learned though, that white purse toting is not a feasible option for those who possess the uncanny ability to conjure stains in the most unlikely of scenarios. See: the time I found ketchup on my white pants, reasoned I’d not been anywhere near ketchup in the last 24 hours, thought I had my period, learned it was in fact a french fry mishap for which I have still no viable explanation.
When my friend arrived, I reported the discovery of my most recent fixation–noting the plague of perennial filth I’d come to envelop. In a bright red corduroy blouse from American Apparel and light wash skinny jeans, she prompted I look down. White Jil Sander pumps infiltrated by little charming scuffs.
She called them power accents, I really liked that and though I’d have a hard time committing to a white shoe again, (the suede studded Isabel Marant boots I’d jovially acquired just a month earlier were now a distinct hue of tire stain grey and there was little charm about it,) maybe I could throw preconceived rules about my binding power to dirty out the window and consider a purse. Worse came to it, DIY paint splatter a la Margiela seemed a decent deviation from once-white.
And if that wouldn’t work? To quote a Bronx Beat laden Betty: So what? Who cares?
So I made a collage of prospective white spoils. They credit as follows from left: Proenza Schouler PS11, Proenza Schouler PS1 Mini, H&M envelope clutch, Claire Vivier zipper pouch, Jil Sander diamond wristlet (real leather, not paper, and just $200 more than its biodegradable counterpart,) Lanvin Clutch and for the sake of celebrating yesterday’s Shopping Cart Syndrome, there’s one white vintage Chanel tassel purse that is begging for the nurturing of your digital cart, even if just for 30 minutes.
Or don’t, it’s your life.