Have you noticed how this Giorgio Armani bag bares a striking resemblance to some precious gemstone? Maybe a ruby. Or an emerald. Maybe it’s the shape. Or the jewel colours. Or the shiny leather and the way light bounces of it in the way that light would bounce off a diamond. Except that we’re not comparing this to a diamond. Diamonds are dull. Diamonds are common. They’re the jewelry equivalent of nits. An infectious disease. Everyone has one or has had one at some point. They no longer bring joy. The kind of joy that a bag can bring. Imagine for example that someone were to propose to you. There’s a box. It’s wrapped in ribbon. It’s so big you cannot pick it up. Obviously it’s better than one of those tiny boxes, which fit in the palm of your hand. You would need a magnifying glass to clearly see its contents. Not with a big box though. You open it. Take off the ribbon. Inside it a deep red bag. The colour of a ruby. And hallmarked too. Giorgio Armani in discreet gold lettering on the front outside pocket. You squeal as you touch the soft calfskin leather. You’ve always been a fan of calf over cow. Veal over beef. You lift it delicately out of the box by its two perfect handles. They fit your hands perfectly. Like a Siamese twin from which you were separated at birth fits your body perfectly. You unzip the gold zip and marvel at the spacious interior lined in suede. I could never fit anything into a diamond you think as you mentally plan what you will be carrying around in your new bag. You’re particularly taken with the outside front pocket. You like to slide your hand down the smooth exterior of your new bag into its mysterious darkness. Imagine what you could keep in there. Maybe your keys. And a pen. Or your phone. Things that always need seem to get lost in the depths of bags that you need to access in a second. It’s so annoying when your phone rings and you can never answer it in time because you can’t find it. It means you have to call people back which leads to increased phone bills which totally mess with your Amani spending budget. Because you really need a black tuxedo with satin lapel to complement your new bag and those pesky calling other landline expensive minutes are snatching your dream away. Every time you call your mother that’s two pounds less towards the tuxedo and the woman calls like ten times a day. You need that front pocket or you’ll be bankrupt. So you see, if someone were to propose with a classy Giorgio Armani handbag you wouldn’t even hesitate before saying yes. It’s like the new diamond. But better. Obviously.
by Natalie Dembinska