I’ve never owned an expensive purse. No $300 Michael Kors bag. Not even a $150 Kate Spade bag. I did once own a Coach bag, but since I bought it from a street vendor in New York City and it cost $12, I don’t think it was genuine…..

I’ve owned many a purse in my life, but the sum total of all of the purses I’ve owned probably doesn’t equal the cost of a Prada bag from Neiman Marcus.

I’m not criticizing anyone who owns and loves an expensive purse. We all have our things for which we will spend money. One of the first things I bought when we began wintering in AZ was a Kitchen Aid stand mixer. For what it cost me, I could have bought an expensive Marc Jacobs bag that didn’t come from China.

And, by the way, I’ve noticed that nobody who spends a couple of hundred dollars or more on a purse actually calls it a purse. They call it a bag. I carry purses.

Many people get their expensive bags as gifts from their husband. My husband wouldn’t be able to tell you what color purse I carry. That doesn’t bother me, because frankly, I probably would have to look down at what’s around my neck to be sure what color it was. I care very little about what my purse looks like, and more about whether it meets my needs.

The thing is, my needs change.  In 1993, I graduated from the University of Denver with a master’s degree and arthritis in my neck from having spent all those hours at the computer writing paper after paper after paper as required by the Communications Department. I found that carrying a purse over my shoulder was very uncomfortable. So for a while, I carried a professional-looking backpack. (I’m calling it professional-looking to convince myself that I looked, well, professional. I probably didn’t.)

After a while, I went back to a regular purse, and I chose one that was large enough to carry a small service animal. Seriously, back in those days we weren’t able to have access to our entire world on a cell phone. So my bag needed to hold my billfold, my daytimer, my address book, my business card holder, any files necessary for whatever meeting I was attending, my cell phone, a makeup bag, my lunch, and probably Court’s cleats so that he could change in the car when I took him to soccer practice.

Out of habit, I kept a large purse for a long time, even after I retired. I remember carrying juice boxes and diapers and diaper wipes and bags of soggy fruit and crumbling bars when I would take grandkids to the zoo. I could have been one of those women on Let’s Make a Deal.

Until finally one day I realized that my grandkids no longer wore diapers and my cavernous purse contained only a small billfold and my cell phone, and it still hurt my shoulder. That’s when I decided I would downsize to a small purse with a long strap that would fit over my head, thereby leaving my hands free to do whatever I wanted to do with free hands. There must be something good to do with two hands.

All of this rambling about purses is because yesterday I once again bought a new purse. Actually, in all honesty, I bought two new purses – one to carry my lone billfold every day and a large backpack to carry on an airplane that will fit under my seat. The total cost for both? $57.00

Target, my friends.

By the way, Bill did actually buy me a purse one time. I went through a period where I kept leaving my purse wherever we dined. By the grace of God and a very busy St. Anthony, I always got my purse back with nothing missing. One day Bill spotted a little purse that clipped onto one’s belt. He reasoned that if the purse was connected to my body, I may not leave it behind. It was a reasonable thought.

However, there were a couple of flaws. First, the bag was too small to carry much of anything except a credit card. Second, when I sat down wearing the purse, it would jab me in my side. As a result, I would remove the purse, thereby negating its benefits. And third, I don’t wear a belt, so I had to hook it onto the waistband of my pants. The bag pulled my pants down on one side. It was such a nice thought, though, wasn’t it?

It was better than him buying me this Louis Vuitton bag which they call an urban satchel. It’s priced at a mere $150,000. It must be the cigarette pack. You know how expensive smokes have gotten…..

But, see above. Fifty-seven dollars for two bags at Target.

I win.