The Purse Not Boughten

It’s coming on summer, which means it’s time to shove winter stuff to the back of the closet and pull out the warm weather collection. As I make this move to the shelves of sandals, strappy tops, and accessories, I’m haunted by what’s missing: The Purse Not Boughten.

Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” plays on me in the background:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Aw come on, I tell myself. I’m not a material girl; it wasn’t like it was a life-changing decision. But then why am I standing in this dark closet, yet again, thinking back to that sunny day in Ravello Italy, five years ago? Why can I still see that lonely purse dangling outside a little store on a cute cobblestone lane, beckoning to me?

Because I believe, like most gals I know, that The Perfect Purse is one of life’s great pleasures. And this one was perfect: an olive green, ideal-sized straw square, woven with a subtle gold floral design, and accented with curved bamboo handles— just right to hold a paperback, simply styled as only the Italians know how to do. The dollar was stronger back then, and I could have snatched it up for what would have amounted to twenty American bucks.

I remember the internal struggle as though it was yesterday. Ravello was my first stop on a month-long stay in southern Italy and I was holding on to my traveling-light motto, which meant don’t add anything to the suitcase ‘till the last week of the trip. 

But it doesn’t weigh much, I thought, when the raven-haired signora shopkeeper lifted it off its hook and handed it over to me. Why not ditch the reliable shoulder bag for this cute number? How great it would look in the pictures when I visited my relatives in Naples ... then again, there could be something better further down the road, in Capri or Amalfi. Italy is full of beautiful purses. I shouldn’t fall for the first one I see … or should I?