I Hope The Gucci Dionysus Isn’t Dead Because I Just Fucking Bought One

So, I bought another bag.

It was an early Christmas treat to myself (originally intended to be a post-Christmas treat, but I’m very impatient and those extra seven days felt like a lifetime) and something I’d been debating over for months, so after numerous ‘what do you think?’ texts sent to every person whose opinion I value, I bit the bullet and submitted the order. The bag arrived from Italy three days later, and I instantly took to protecting it like a mother does her child (I made Keiran wash and dry his hands before touching it, and when I eventually let him, every other second was interspersed with a strained ‘please be careful Keiran’ and panicked expression).

I do feel slightly uneasy about sharing such an expensive item online, however. Heck, I feel slightly uneasy about sharing it in real life. Whenever a luxury item is bought, it’s inevitable that the first thing most people will ask is ‘so how much was it?’, and whilst to some extent it is expected, it is also slightly intrusive. This bag ~ is ~ expensive - wildly so - and although to other people who work in my industry, designer items aren’t uncommon, to my family, friends, and friends of friends who are still trying to get their head around what I do, spending so much money on something that looks slightly underwhelming is madness. With that in mind, I know that as soon as I reveal the price, I'm going to be faced with a 'you what?' reaction and the feeling that I'm obliged to spend the next ten minutes justifying my purchase and explaining why I made it. I feel like I'm being judged, because I am.

There’s always going to be judgement from either side - from those outside of blogging, and those within it. Outside of the blogosphere, I fear that people will question why I haven’t spent that money elsewhere (‘why doesn’t she learn to drive?’, ‘why doesn’t she save it for a deposit?’, ‘does she really need another bag?’), and from those inside the industry, I fear the quiet but ever-present snobbery that surrounds what’s “on trend” and what isn’t (‘oh my god I’m so sick of seeing ~ that ~ bag’, ‘why did she choose that over x, y or z?’, ‘it’s the bag that EVERYBODY has’).

And usually it’s so outside of my character to care what other people think, but when I’d ordered the bag and Keiran asked how much it was, I pleaded with him to not tell anybody else, and for the most part, I’ve really tried to keep the price under wraps myself. It’s not that I feel guilty, because 2017 has been the best year of my life so far and as it all draws to a close, I wanted to treat myself to something I love, and that feels justified. So many big life moments came to a head in the past year - from quitting my job and working for myself full-time, to moving out with the person I love and learning that sometimes, even when you adore the bones of each other, you’re going to tell each other to fuck off every now and then - and this gift to myself was a symbol and culmination of that.

But a little bit of me still feels conflicted. I remember how frustrating it felt seeing influencers and bloggers bandying around thousand pound bags as if they were nothing, whilst I was eating cheesy pasta every day at uni and wondering if I’d ever be able to buy Topshop jeans without wincing at the £40+ price tag. I used to instantly unfollow anybody that referred to a £100+ coat as affordable, and rolled my eyes at the stream of Maldives holidays and ridiculously expensive swimwear that would frequent my feed every summer. I felt that these people were so far removed from the reality of what was affordable and what was expensive, that they had no concept of what it was like to feel sick about a credit card bill or unauthorised overdraft letters from the bank before payday.

Gucci Dionysus Leather Shoulder Bag

And even though I’m now in a position where, every year or so I can treat myself to a luxury item, I never want to lose that appreciation for the fact that is ~ is ~ luxury, and that it ~ is ~ expensive. I appreciate that I am in a privileged position to be able to buy something so special, and I hope that both you guys and the people around me know that I don't take it lightly. I’ve said it a million times before but I’ll say it again: I grew up in a single-parent, council-house family and got my first job on a burger van at 13, wearing £30 extensions and concealer for lipstick - I never dreamed I would own a MacBook (even on finance, as mine is now), let alone a Gucci bag. I have worked hard, but I’ve also been really lucky, and more often than not, when I’m reflecting on what I do, I can’t fucking believe it’s legit. That's the God's honest truth.

So this post is catharsis. I’m admonishing my own ill-feeling, and declaring that yes, I did buy something expensive, and no, I’m not rich (by any stretch of the imagination, trust me). Yes, I will wear the bag to the Co-Op because no, I didn't buy the bag to keep it locked up and preserved. Yes, I do expect that next year, I’ll buy another, and no, I’m still nowhere nearer to buying a house than the last time I bought a designer handbag. But hey, some people spend money on expensive holidays, and I spend money on expensive bags. I’m a big girl with my own mind and my own business, and I bought the bag to please myself - no-one else.

So here’s to the bag that’s "dead" because "every blogger" has bought it. Here’s to the bag that is a waste of money because I should be saving for something else. Here’s to the bag that will divide opinion and raise eyebrows and inevitably confuse, but here’s also to the bag that I fucking love and which I think looks sick.

Merry Christmas to moi.


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