I set limits for how much I'm willing to spend on just about everything.
I have a limit for under-eye lotion, one for coffee drinks, and though it goes against everything I stand for, I have them for clothes and accessories as well.
This limit-setting doesn't stem from a no-clutch-is-worth-$600 attitude. Hardly. No, these limits have to do with the fact that I'm a 26 year old whose rent check needs to clear every month.
Having spent most of this month's shopping allowance last month, I was in no place today to do anything other than be the dutiful wingwoman to my friend while she scoured the city for new work clothes. As we walked down ConnAve to Betsy Fisher - the street's only purveyor of DVF, Twinkle, and Chaiken - I told my friend about a bag I'd been eyeing there for some time (currently number four on the wish list) and that since she, too, was in the market for a new black daybag, she should consider getting it.
Proving her salt as my number one girl, she immediately stopped in her tracks, turned to me and asked, "Do you love this bag?"
"I do," I replied.
"Then buying it would be like you dating a guy I was really interested in; it would only cause jealousy and friction in our relationship. I won't do it."
Startled by the seriousness of her tone, I couldn't help but laugh.
But she was right. And once Jenna buzzed us in, my friend didn't even glance at the handbag section on her way to the Trina Turk suit separates.
And it's an impressive handbag section.
Like an under-$200 black round-toed pump worthy of my red vintage lampshade skirt, a good friend like L is hard to find.
Patent box clutch by Jimmy Choo
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