For the first two years I owned my natural leather tote, I treated patina like a flaw. Every water spot felt like a personal failure. Every darkening of the leather around the handles looked, to me, like an imperfection I needed to hide. I remember standing in my kitchen, dabbing at a rain mark with…
For years, I chased the obvious names. I saved, I scrimped, and I bought the bags everyone else had. I told myself I was investing in quality, in heritage, in a piece of the dream. And I was, sort of. But I was also buying into a marketing machine that made me feel like I…
For years, I thought my problem with tote bags was a personal failing. They would slip off my shoulder, the handles digging into my arm. The proportions always felt… off. A bag that looked chic and structured on a friend would suddenly look like a child’s accessory on me, shrinking my frame and making me…