Clutching It

A month ago I was proudly hoisting a big bag around. It was in a bright vermillion hue, and gifted from Big. It was a good ordeal; I was finally able to carry everything existential and essential in my life without having the fact that it might fall out of my teeny weeny purse. Plus, it could fit my MacBook, which is a major bonus because none of my bags (and when I say none, I mean out of the array of bags I possess, literally NONE could withstand the weight and size of my MacBook) had the capability to do so. It was sturdy and safe. I immediately felt potently powerful, like I've got hold of the entire world with just my right palm and I could manipulate everyone because I actually, for the first time, got my life in order. In retrospect, I got my life beside me. It all resided in my trusty, red, sturdy and safe bag. Perhaps that was what made me felt safe. Everything was in that immaculate order I've always wanted. Cold? I'd just grab my blazer (in cameo as a jacket) out from my crimson satchel. Chappy lips? I'd gladly (and proudly) pull out that Burt's Bees that never actually made it in my other purses because it didn't cross the benchmark of 'compulsory' as compared to additional arm accoutrements. That red bag was like a quintessential modern day Doraemon pouch.

Everything was smooth sailing. The sky was clear and the sea was calm. We were like a perfect holiday on a perfect yacht in the most perfect plausible weather. All seemed spectacular on the horizon, but little did I know the significance of pre-reading the weather forecast until a storm strikes.

The handle broke.

In the sea of purses I officially possess, why must it have to be the one gifted by Big? Why must the most stalwart be the one to sink first? I couldn't help but wonder: Was I a victim of perennial misfortune doomed to reiterate the funerals of my bags? Or was I simply just destined to live by mini vessel-like clutches?

As I slowly comprehended that fate doesn't reside in me with bigger bags, I slowly searched for the opposite. I managed to actually scout for six particular clutches, which I'd still be stuck in bewilderment to actually make up my fickle mind.

Here I chance upon this Givenchy butterfly screened clutch which really reminded me of the paisley one I didn't achieve two seasons ago, and am still perpetually and extremely upset with my disrepectable behaviour. How could I actually miss out on that? Also, this MCM mazarine blue zip pouch looks like a reputable clutch that could withstand any nonsensical objects I'd decide to dump in when I teeter it out for lunch. But how could I neglect this awesome Loeffler Randall magenta pony fur clutch, which not only can be doubled up as a sling purse, I can also stroke it with joy and pretend that it's my mini Shih Tzu (which I do not physically possess, just mentally). Oh yeah, this Anya Hindmarch glitter foldover purse kinda has the equivalent sparkling potential capability as Edward Cullen. Talk about outshining each other during a competition. Okay hold up, this Alexander Wang prisma heat tech clutch looks really like a typical Alex zip clutch with the conventional metal detailing at the side. But what if you'd realise that they brought the 'heat tech' to the next temperature? But if there are days I'd like something cooler and more toned down, I was thinking of going with this classy Tory Burch black slim clutch with embossed logo.

Omg so many decisions. Could any of you guys help me to decide which is the crème de la crème?

M Missoni raffia clutch c/o Shopbop, Marni x H&M flower necklace, H&M shirt, Uniqlo shorts

Image credits Imran