Many years ago, Gulley worked at Neiman Marcus. During her brief career in the high-end world of fashion and fabulous, she always knew what the newest trends were, and would report back to me.
It was a glorious time.
Unfortunately, it came in my pre-marriage days when my disposable income was approximately a negative number by the end of each month, in spite of the fact that I was living in an apartment where the rent was only $395 month ALL BILLS PAID.
I will tell y’all right now that the thermostat in that apartment was never above 70 degrees. I wore flannel pajamas and drank hot chocolate on the couch year round.
And if that isn’t a testament to the fabulous life I led as a single girl, I don’t know what is.
Anyway, I was on a budget. And in spite of working at Neiman’s, so was Gulley. Because retailers don’t actually pay their employees a salary that would allow them to shop at the store.
Especially a store that considers Cole Haan shoes to be a bargain basement item.
It was during this time, over 10 years ago, that Gulley told me about something called a Kate Spade purse. She had saved her money and used her employee discount to purchase the original Kate Spade bag, which you fashionistas out there may recall was essentially a box-shaped bag covered in some type of black microfiber material.
I was green with envy over her fabulous black bag.
I wanted one. I needed one. Who cares that Kate was charging $200 plus dollars for a black canvas purse? I had to have one, even if it meant skipping two or eighteen meals.
However, when a person is making so little money that they live in 492 square feet for the low price of $395 a month ALL BILLS PAID, and a two-piece extra spicy meal from Popeyes counts as a luxury item, designer handbag purchases don’t necessarily make good sense.
Then, one day Gulley was talking to her dad on the phone. Somehow the subject of purses came up and he mentioned that he knew a place where he could purchase a faux Kate Spade.
So we did the only thing two desperate girls in their early twenties could do. We begged and pleaded with him to risk life and limb to get us the counterfeit merchandise.
Here’s the thing about Gulley’s dad. He’s not a halfway kind of guy. If he does something, he’s going to do it ALL OUT and do it with style.
It’s his way.
So, he came to visit bearing two calf-hair, zebra-print Kate Spade bags. One for each of us.
He was like a renegade Santa Claus and we were understandably thrilled.
Gulley and I carried those purses for at least a year or two. It made every day better just knowing that the zebra-print goodness was a part of my life.
However, styles come and go. Eventually we knew it was time to retire the old girls.
I’m not sure where mine is now. As I have shown, I have a merciless tendency to get rid of anything and everything. I can’t imagine I threw it out, so it may be in a box in the attic serving as a bed to a wayward squirrel.
Because if there is anything living in our attic, it is only a squirrel. Not a mouse. Definitely not a mouse. And certainly not the larger cousin of the mouse, also known as a rat.
Yesterday, Gulley came over bearing her Kate Spade zebra-print bag. She gave it to Caroline. I like to think of it as a symbolic gesture. The passing of the fashion torch.
Caroline took one look at it and said, “OH MAMA! This is a GROWN UP BAG. This is a beautiful, GROWN UP BAG. Thank you, Guwwey, thank you!”
I’ve never been more proud than I was at that moment.
She gets it. She understands fabulous.