Pocketbook Graveyard
Is your pocketbook a combo junk drawer/file cabinet/waste basket/pharmacy/piggy bank? Time to rethink your purse’s purpose.

It's an axiom that we fill whatever space we have, and in the case of pocketbooks, the larger the bag, the more we will carry. This led to a post on social media that a pocketbook is a junk drawer with handles. It gives rise to the phenomenon I have dubbed pocketbook artifacts.
My pocketbooks shared a common characteristic: they were large and deep, ideal for concealing hidden treasure.
I become attached to the purses that accompany me every day for a year or two, and until recently, I didn't part with any of them. As they went into disuse, I tossed them onto the top shelf of my closet, which I referred to affectionately as the pocketbook graveyard. I added inherited bags from my departed mother.
The situation became untenable as bags began to fall from the overloaded shelf. I undertook to reduce thirty to my top ten, an arbitrary number I chose which would include pocketbooks with various functions from evening wear to beach bags.
My pocketbooks shared a common characteristic: they were large and deep, ideal for concealing hidden treasure. The first step in the process was to make sure they were empty of valuables and personal information. No zipper compartment was left unexamined. I set up a table and emptied them one at a time in what became an archeological dig.
An Archeological Dig of Sorts
I could date when the bags were in use by the recovered contents. A ticket stub from a concert of Toad the Wet Sprocket at Jones Beach State Park Theater dated one bag from 1997. In another, I uncovered a sticker that read "I was vaccinated." It had the emblem of Jones Beach State Park. The same park with the concert stadium converted to a drive-thru vaccination center during the pandemic in 2020.
From my mother's pocketbooks, I retrieved tissues, used and unused, cough drops, a brush with her hair on it, an ID issued in 1986, and a boarding pass from a defunct airline. I spoke to my mother in spirit as I disposed of her DNA. One of her bags made it to the final cut of ten. When I flipped on the closet light to return it to the shelf, the bulb blew out. Superstitions got the best of me, and I wondered what message my mother was sending. I decided she was asking why I waited so many years to deal with it.
At the bottom of life's purse is change; adapt or face extinction.
I found spare change in each bag, a reminder that at the bottom of life's purse is change; adapt or face extinction. Along with coins, there were statements and slips with account numbers that needed shredding. There was a full-service jewelry lost and found, especially pairs of earrings taken off at the hair salon, single earrings removed after losing the matching one, and wrist bangles that became an annoyance at work. I also recovered, genteelly wrapped in tissues, a gooey lollipop stick because sometimes there is no waste receptacle when you need one the most.
If there was one lesson to be learned from the archeological dig of my purses, it was that I had to switch to a smaller style. My mission became finding the perfect replacement handbag. I culled the contents until I reduced them to the most necessary. I count my phone among the indispensable items. The most outstanding feature for my new bag had to be an outer pouch to hold my phone so that I wouldn't have to dig in the bottom of a satchel to find it when it rings, which never happens in time to answer the call.
Finding the Perfect Bag
Further incentive to reduce the size of our bags and what we are carrying in them comes from chiropractors who recommend against large, overloaded pocketbooks because they can lead to back, shoulder and neck issues. The weight pulls to one side throwing the spine out of alignment. We need to wean ourselves from carrying everything we might possibly need for any given situation on our shoulders. Wearing a purse crossbody can alleviate spinal stress. An additional advantage to the crossbody style is theft deterrence.
We need to wean ourselves from carrying everything we might possibly need for any given situation on our shoulders.
The fanny packs of the 1980s were convenient but fell out of favor, although there were those who continued to swear by them. My daughter weaned my husband from his fanny pack by buying him a fashionable murse (man-purse) from Italy. The emergence of the murse created purse politics as women downsize their bags and men have an equal opportunity to carry necessities for family outings. My daughter takes this to an extreme using a cross-body bandolier loaded with only a cell phone; her husband holds the kids' treats and "paci" in his bag.
The fanny pack has had a revival as a trendy crossbody pack. The new fashionable packs check all the boxes: hold necessities, don't stress the spine, and keep valuables secure. There are pocketbooks on the market that expand and collapse on demand. The French company Longchamps is known for this folding bag design, called Le Pliage, giving credit to Japanese origami for its inspiration.
Using a smaller bag requires more effort to plan what to carry for each activity, for example, sunscreen is likely not needed when you go food shopping (unless it's an open-air market). One friend devised a Russian doll stacking system for her pocketbook usage: a wallet for running to the store that fits into a larger bag for longer outings, all of which go into a satchel for excursions.
I found my perfect bag, compact in size, with an outer pouch for my phone, and a cross-body strap. My new smaller bag compels me to clean it out more frequently and it no longer collects artifacts. I negotiate with my husband over who will carry necessities, since my bag is now smaller than his.
My twenty discarded handbags were donated or consigned. They served me well, but now can rest in peace in someone else's closet. When I retire my current pocketbook, though its small size won't displace much, I'll give another one away to maintain my limit. The graveyard will become a temporary resting place, not an indefinite interment.
