You know how sometimes you stumble across things from your past and just go, “Huh. Right. That happened.” Well, that was me last weekend. I was doing a bit of a clear-out, trying to finally tackle that mountain of boxes in the spare room. You know the ones – full of stuff you might need someday, which, let’s be honest, usually means never.
So, I’m digging through one, sneezing from the dust, and what do I pull out? A pink Playboy purse. Yep. Bright, unapologetically pink, with that bunny logo. I just stared at it for a good minute. My memory’s not what it used to be, so I was genuinely trying to figure out its origin story in my life.
It wasn’t like I was ever a massive fan of the whole Playboy brand, not really my scene. I was more into, I don’t know, whatever was comfortable and didn’t have too many logos back then. Or so I thought. But then it clicked. This purse, it wasn’t something I bought. It was a gift! From my well-meaning aunt who, bless her heart, sometimes got my style… a little off. She probably saw it and thought, “Oh, young people will love this!” Bless her.
I remember getting it. I think it was for a birthday, maybe when I was in my late teens? Early twenties? That whole period is a bit of a blur, a real jumble of trying to figure things out.
- My fashion sense was all over the place.
- My music taste was a wild mix.
- My life goals? Let’s just say they were ‘evolving’.
It was a proper hodgepodge of a time, much like the random assortment of things I’m finding in these boxes, actually. This purse kinda sums up that era of blissful confusion, I suppose.
I actually think I used it a couple of times, probably to go to some party where I thought it made me look… sophisticated? I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s hilarious to look back on. We all have those fashion choices we’d rather forget, right? This is definitely one of mine. But in a funny way. It’s not like it’s a deep, dark secret, just one of those “what was I thinking?” moments.
For a second, I thought about just chucking it in the donation pile. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to start using it now, am I? I’m pretty sure my current handbag would look at it and just sigh. But then, I couldn’t. It’s too much of a weird little memory. It’s not hurting anyone sitting in a box, or maybe now, on a shelf as a quirky ornament.
So, yeah, the pink Playboy purse survived the great clear-out. It’s now perched on a bookshelf in my office, kind of ironically. It’s a talking point, if nothing else. Mostly, it just makes me chuckle and remember a time when life felt a bit more chaotic and a lot more… pink, apparently. It’s funny how objects can do that, isn’t it? Just transport you back. Not always to the most stylish of times, but to a time nonetheless.
