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The Bag

As a rite of passage into adult life and independent womanhood, I asked J if she may like a basic Kate Spade bag. I never had one but have always considered them chic and classy - just perfect for a young lady on her first job interview. As we talked about this we realized it left us both feeling sad.  Much in the same way that watching Robin Williams in Dead Poet's Society is now a sad experience. It is one of our favorite movies tinged with a stain that just can't go away. I have not been able to watch Parts Unknown since the passing of Anthony Bourdain. 

 What started as conversation about buying a bag ended up being about mental health and how its easy to be astounded when someone takes their life but sometimes impossible to know they experienced so much pain or were in desperate for help. A few years ago, a kid that J knew committed suicide. No one saw it coming, the kids that were closest to him felt guilty about not knowing - not being there for him. Those who were only acquainted with him suffered less, felt less culpable. A celebrity is someone people feel like they know even if only at a great distance. So the Kate Spade bag became impossible to separate from the tragedy and value for its perfection.

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