Let’s just take a moment shall we, and appreciate the beauty that is handbags. If you’re a guy or a girly that doesn’t like this sort of thing, firstly, why?! And secondly, I suggest you run away right now because there’s only one way this post is going, and that is into handbag territory.
Let’s start at the very beginning, because according to the Sound of Music, that is a very good place to start. Whilst on my crying-with-excitement holiday to Wales, we went to visit a castle for a day, but discovered when we got there that this ‘castle’ was actually just two walls. Okay, originally the walls were part of a castle but there’s not really much you can do on a day-trip to some walls is there? There was a museum that you could pay £1 to look around … but hey, I wanted a castle not a room of old pictures. So we dumped my dad in there and my mum and I went shopping instead. Because that’s what girls do.
And there, in a remote Welsh town with like two shops in it, we found a lovely department store that was closing down and was selling everything off. Let me tell you now, I think everyone in Wales was in that shop. It was like being back in dear old Birmingham, except everyone was really polite and said excuse me a lot. So nothing like Birmingham, there was just a lot of people.
Wow, that was a very long and overly detailed explanation.
Basically, Wales, shop, I bought a bag, it’s pretty and cheap. (It’s David Jones don’t ya know, not that I’d brag or anything)
And in case you’re sitting there thinking ‘Hey Hannah, what was originally on that small table before you put your rather beautiful bag on it?’
I’m glad you asked.
This. This was on that table. Some dead branches with glittery pine cones (I think?) hanging on them. Why? I have no idea. My mum made me sit and paint them all, then put glitter on them all, then tie the most stupidly thin thread around them and hang them. Took me like two weeks, and ruined two paintbrushes. Just saying.