Guilty pleasures (not the first either)

 
An hour.

An hour was all it took in TK Maxx and I was walking out the door with not one, but two handbags.

The Other Handbag very much fell into the Notablinkoftheeye category insomuch as it set me back under a tenner.

But this one. Oh, THIS ONE.

In no way, shape or form can I justify the purchase of this one. Other than...

it marks a welcome departure from my dark colour leanings. (Woo hoo, I thought, it's burnt orange in a sea of browns and blacks. Actually it's more tangerine.)

it's simplicity personified (nay, handbagified) in an age of endless and excessive buckles and clips.

I've never done a handbag which you have no choice but to loop over your arm or swing at knee level. I usually insist on tuck-it-under-your-armpit-length straps or a sling-it-diagonally-across-your-person-so-as-it-cuts-into-the-crevice-between-your-boobs style.

But alas, I am not Catholic, so there are no rosary beads to rub, Hail Marys to recite or confessions to attend.

So...I have vowed to donate two old handbags to my local Oxfam shop.

Oh, and I might buy a packet of Fairtrade coffee whilst I'm in there.

(I think that pretty much cancels it out.)