Non-buyer's Remorse

There is a test that is pretty commonly employed by female shoppers to help determine whether or not they should spend money on an item about which they are indecisive. The item in question is usually an article of clothing, in my case, almost always shoes or a bag, and in nearly all instances, impractical. When something is fashionable but serves no practical function in your wardrobe, sometimes it takes more than a little reasoning to make a wise shopping decision. Sometimes you just need TIME to gauge how badly you want something versus all the other crap you come across for which you have a passing desire.

The idea behind "the test" is that you leave the item you are lusting after in the store for the day, and if a nagging desire to own 4-inch, lime green platforms covered in cherries eats away at you until you can think of nothing but running back to the Bloomie's to rip the last size 7 out of the hands of some blond with a nose job, you go back to get the damn shoes.

Last weekend I took a trip to the neighborhood I most resent (Williamsburg) for the summer event I most LOVE (The Renegade Craft Fair). I discovered the craft fair last year and was overjoyed to find more than just the usual potpourri of beaded baubles, screenprinted notecards and homemade buttons on the NYC craft fair circuit (although there were plenty of each represented, fo sho). Metalsmiths and dressmakers and glassblowers all came to show their wares. Handmade stuffed animals shaped like T-Bone Steaks (shrink wrapped to styrofoam meat trays) sat in booths next to silkscreened Jay Ryan posters and made-to-order corsets. H-E-A-V-E-N. I made a few key purchases last year, buying a dress and a ring that both became staples in a wardrobe admittedly so overwhelming, many gems tend to get ignored. I escaped this year's fair with another dress (from the same woman who made last year's) and a necklace composed of antique charms, including a dog tag bearing a scrabble board covered in French mots. Tres, tres bien.

But since I left the fair around closing time last Saturday something has been haunting me. I've been feeling the emptiness of an opportunity that has passed, and nothing has been able to quench the burning desire I have for this bag:



Now, when the thing was hanging in front of me I didn't even consider purchasing it. I don't have any idea how much it cost or even the name of the artist who so realistically recreated Sir Tupac on the side of a vintage clutch. All I know is that I felt compelled to take a picture of it, mainly to capture the unparalled hilarity and outright GENIUS of the bow incorporation. But now I kind of wish I could stuff Tupac with some cash and Lancome lip gloss and take him out for a gin and juice. Perhaps the reason it never even occurred to me to buy the thing when it was in front of me had something to do with my (embarrassingly) limited familiarity with Tupac's catalog.

Stranger at the bar: "Oh, so you like Tupac?"
Miss Stacia: "Yeah, um, he's pretty good. But how awesome is this bow!"