Some of my earliest memories as a young person struggling to present myself properly involve my handbag. Pencils, erasers, calendar for homework assignments and personal phone book, mirror, brush, trivial money (never as much as a dollar); the important trinkets of my childhood were always with me, in my handbag. Carried that thing everywhere, a cast-off of my mother's. Very good quality leather, too old to remain fashionable enough for her, perfect for me.

I recall she was quite distressed when she first realized I had rescued this essential bit of my style from the trash. She fussed until she realized how important it was to me, and then only predicted, "You'll see."

Well, I did see. I took great punishment for being a little boy that insisted on carrying a handbag. But it was worth it. Just one more piece of my way of presenting Allison to the world. And such a joy to have, too! All my neatest stuff went in there, to be with me always. No more uncomfortable lumps in pockets! No more forgetting that my favorite 1923 penny was in those jeans, lost somewhere in the laundry. A great place to carry my prizes, like the bright pink lipstick sampler my mother gave me 'cause she hated the color.

I have long since lost that handbag to the passage of time. And a dozen more super favorites too. I've only really misplaced one, left behind at the table at a restaurant on a shopping trip in Manhattan. No chance of ever recovering it, the bag and all my most personal possessions immediately vanished. I don't think I've ever felt so personally violated before or since. And I had this most wonderful credit card wallet in there, too. Soft as a mouse's skin. Haven't seen the like since.

I remember when I first discovered Stone Mountain bags. The supersoft leather, the smell, the styles I like so much. So many bags are really ugly, aren't they? Huge, carpetbag models in fake leopard, or supershiny vinyl, in harsh or calideoscope colors, with large hoop handles or vulgar or gauche decorations. Or the otherwise very nicely crafted models that are covered in buckles and zippers, loops and tiny external pockets. I am not on an adventure in the wilderness, for goodness sake! My handbag is not a backpack! But the nice ones are so pretty; classic styling that goes with anything, with that wonderful leather smell, and feel. I guess I am old-fashioned, but now days I prefer Coach. I must have 8 of them, plus perhaps another 8 from other labels that I like, and a couple of satin evening bags of course.

I like shoulder bags. Good quality, with a strong, long strap that I can hang from my shoulder. I like the feel, the reassurance, as it bounces against my side as I walk. In school, binder and books held to my chest on difficult days, or down, against my hip on confident days, my bag helped reassure me that I was OK. My stuff was with me. I had the style I wanted to present. Even today, carrying my laptop or briefcase to the office or on business trips, my bag represents safety and reassurance. With nothing else, the keys, credit cards, ID, money, and other essentials in my handbag represent the power to get me wherever I need to go, purchase whatever I decide I must have, the means to relief from pretty much any difficulty I may find myself in. Just having it with me gives me confidence.

I have to feel sorry for men. No handbag. They shove their overstuffed wallets in their back pocket, distorting the leather as it molds itself to their posterior, ruining even the finest suits as it wears a hole through the fabric, destroying the fine cut of their clothes, and form, as it jutts out like a huge wart on their behind. So unsightly. Must be uncomfortable to sit on such a lump all the time! I can only imagine.

For years I changed bags with the season, and then also for the outfit. I still do that sometimes, change bags so the colors coordinate well with my outfit for the day, but not all the time. After all, most days I just go to work, drop the bag into the file drawer in my desk, and only retrieve it to go home. Stopping in the grocery store on the way home? Who cares if your bag matches your shoes? Not me.

But then, there are those occasions when that simply won't do. Evening bags are essential for evening wear, and nothing makes me feel so elegant as an evening bag (well, except for diamonds, I suppose). Just my license, keys, cab money (just in case, you never know), lipstick, tissue. The essential essentials. And matching colors with my shoes is an absolute requirement when I am in a suit. Glasses, scarf, bag, shoes, jewelry: all must coordinate if I am out with other women. Or traveling. Or shopping for clothing, shoes, or anything expensive. My bag is an essential part of my look for any of those activities. Strangely, just as important as it was to me when I was a child. Part of my presentation.

I might not change bags every day like I did when I was younger, but I have developed a critically important habit because of that. Every Saturday I turn my bag upside down on my bed to sort through my treasures. If I don't, in three weeks it would be too heavy to lift! Everything seems to find its way in there. Wallet, keys, lipstick, shopping list, badge for work, mirror - sure, all of the essentials. But receipts seem to breed in there if I don't keep a close check, as do tokens, pennies, loose bits of this and that. Pens in particular. Business cards. I swear they multiply by themselves! A good sort through is simply part of my weekly personal maintenance regime now.

Ever see a woman hunt desperately through her bag for something? Her keys are in there somewhere, she just knows it. I like my bags to have 3 pockets. The one in front: badge and keys; middle (usually with a zipper): wallet, brush, glasses; back: pen, tissues, shopping list. I even keep a bandaid, and a tampon. Not for me, of course, but have you realized just how many times someone has asked you for one? Happens all the time. Organization works. I can find what I need virtually instantly, just by feel. Very handy when I am in a potentially unsafe space and need to keep my eyes up and open. Also very handy when my hands are full with packages or umbrella or whatever and it is inconvenient to have to paw through stuff to find what I need.

How could I get along without my bag? I really don't know. Aside from the comfort it provides, the fashion statement I make, or deliberatly do not make, and the lovely feel and smell of the fine leather, I just simply could not get by without it.

Yes, all things considered, my favorite accessory.

Allison