This latest project concerns memories of a handbag that belonged to someone’s mother or grandmother. I used to love peering into my Mum’s bag, investigating all the bits and bobs(with permission of course!) and looking longingly at the gold tube of Rimmel Coral lipstick – thinking how great it would be when I had my very own bag and lipstick. I also remember too, how helping yourself to things in my Mum’s bag was a real no no – and that you weren’t allowed to rifle through it – if there was something in there that we needed, we’d have to fetch the bag for my Mum to root through herself. I still do that a bit today, my bag is like my own private cupboard with zips and pockets hiding mysterious bits and pieces (of rubbish usually, important rubbish of course) …my bag is also a visual indicator of my mind…by that I mean when my bag is loaded and heavy with papers, receipts, lists, lipbalms, loose change etc, although I know everything in there is safe, I also know that things are getting jumbled and confused in my mind. Every now and then I tip out my bag and reorder things back into their proper places ie: change in my ‘Elvis’ clasp purse, receipts ordered ready to file, credit cards neatly arranged in order of overdraft size. So this project brought together various stories submitted from other people about their mother’s bag, I took my favourite stories and reconstructed a new bag from the leather and linings from my defunct summer bag. There are 3 main stories featured, one side of the bag recalls how mint imperials were always found loose at the bottom on one mother’s bag – a sweet, albeit smudged and dusty, pretty much guaranteed!
The other side panel story in red is a great story about how one woman carried a packet of cigarettes in her brand new first ever bag for 2 years – although the packet was empty and she didnt smoke – the reason she carried the packet round was just because she thought that was what a young woman kept in her bag as well as a luscious pink lipstick!
The inner lining I printed straight off an email onto linen and this tells the story of Annie and how, whatever the weather, wherever she travelled, whatever the ache or pain, the bag came out and contained everything, literally everything, needed to get from A – B, country to country, doctors to dentists.
Hi Mamajules. I thought I would share this with you. I can remember looking in Nannar’s bag and seeing her very precious “Red Book”. This was an old five year diary with a “gold ” clasp. Over the years it became more and more tattered but also fuller. Nannar kept all her personal bits in it. These included all her Childrens,Grandchildrens, and Great Grandchildrens dates of birth. She kept “items of interest” such as what anniversary years meant eg 25/silver. bits of poems and quotes she had read and felt were pertinent to her. Poems that were written my my Grandmother.and small love notes from Grandad. We of course found this book fascinating but only occasionally given permission to read some thing she had entered. After she died Grandad kept it in her sewing drawer of the litle chest you now have. When he died all us children had a little peak into it(feeling very gulity ) as we did so. It is now in the safe keeping of one of the uncles.
This is such a wonderful bag, wow! And your site looks just lovely – thank you so much for sending me the link! Happy blogging to you!
mama Jules! CG told me to look up your blog, so here I am. Gorgeous work. When we moved my Mother to a nursing home I had to go through her big collection of old handbags – she never threw anything away – and it felt quite sacreligious to handle them. I had to keep back a few from the house clearance folk. As a child, entry to the bag in use was prohibited, as was peeking into the ones stored in the bottom of the wardrobe. They had bits of cash in them so she would never find herself without tube fair. Got to admit I did steal the odd ten pence…..
That is the most gorgeous bag I have ever seen and the idea behind this blog is fantastic – I can’t wait to follow along. Personally I used to always check my Dad’s work briefcase to make sure there was no porn – never was – all sterile and smelling of hospital – oh well – a girl can dream!
your work is fabulous!!
when i read this entry, i can still smell the smell of my mom’s lipstick scent inside of her purse.
really, really love the blog and the work you are doing. just read the glove posting. i am getting ready to post a glove story on my blog. something about single gloves (or glove) has a lot of meaning to me.
keep blogging!
maggie
portland maine
usa
Might have known that your work would be littered with stories and layered with words!
Can’t imagine anyone not finding some resonance in these – but girls and bags hmmm!
My Grandma used to have a shiny black leather bag with a gold clicking clip which could catch your fingers! I remember the smell of her powderpuff and the beautiful embroidered case she kept it in. Since then my talented crafty mum has mades two bags for me which are gorgeous anyway but especially so because – each one is made by her for me, using materials which reflect what she knows of me.
You could go on for hours couldn’t you….
Lovely stuff Jules!