Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Function at War with Fashion
Do you see what's wrong here? Or is it just me?
Because from my perspective, this young woman is carrying two purses and a load of books or maybe a laptop in her arm. And by my way of thinking, this is highly inefficient.
And it's not without precedent. I've seen women who keep all sorts of things in their purses--indeed, they buy intricate purse-systems with all sorts of pockets and webbing inside them, they go by misnomers like The Organizer--and all these things preclude finding anything in their purses. I asked one woman of my acquaintance for a simple object, let's say a pen. She said she had several, then set down the small dirigible she called her purse and commenced to digging through it. She went looking through it for longer than I could hold my breath (and I once held my breath for two minutes, while slumped to my desk in boredom), digging through artifacts and sections of trash that were awaiting proper receptacles as well as several to-do mounds, but eventually whipped it out with a strange "a-ha, told you so" look on her face, proud of her "system."
The woman in this image has extended that. She has one small, cute handbag, plus a large "staying at the cabin this weekend" carry-on, and then an arm full of the stuff she actually needs. Her shirt has no pockets, she doesn't seem to be carrying anything in her jeans pockets, but she has an armload of necessary equipment and two bags slung over her shoulder (whisper a prayer for her lumbar vertebrae).
Now me, being a stupid guy who knows nothing of fashion and looking good, my solution would be to put all of that in a nice Swiss Gear backpack. Everything in the handbag could go in the first two pockets, neatly organized; everything in the carry-on could fit in the main body pocket; and the notebooks/laptop would store in the laptop pocket. The backpack itself has weight-redistributing straps to balance and move the weight forward, easing the strain of carrying that much crap around. Her arms would be free to open doors, manipulate perfume samplers, or text with her friends, and there's less baggage to forget if she ever sets anything down, like getting a double soy half-caf turtlechino.
Yet when I've explained this to my friends of the feminine persuasion, they smile at me pityingly and shake their heads, amused at yet another man who "just doesn't get it." And on rages the conflict, without resolution or compromise or even understanding.