Authenticity Guaranteed

The handbag I bought on Ebay arrived while I was in Seattle.

Whenever one buys anything on Ebay, there is a certain element of risk. I understand this. And the seller of this particular item was clear about the fact that it was used merchandise. The listing included several decent photos and a good description, but even so, you never know exactly what you’re getting until you get it. So, when I opened the Priority Mail package, I was hopeful, but prepared for the worst. What I found inside fell somewhere in between.

I probably had set an unrealistic standard by stopping in to the mother of all Nordstrom’s during my Seattle trip, to peruse and admire the items in their handbag department, which included shiny, perfect, brand-new versions of the black Sam bag that I knew would be waiting for me when I got home. The one I unwrapped had clearly been around the block a few times.

Further inspection revealed that, although the inside lining was a little loose, the bag was in good shape overall. It smelled kinda funny, though. And while I’m 90% sure that it is an authentic Kate Spade bag, that pesky 10% of uncertainty nagged at me, even after a treatment with Febreeze had worked its magic.

If it is a fake, I reasoned, it is a good one. I bought it for a third of what they sell for new, so how picky was I really going to be? But still. The not being sure, it bugged me.

Yesterday I had the new (to me) bag with me as I was running a few errands, and it proved to be the perfect size to hold all my necessary items. The straps are just the right length, and it’s easy to carry. So I was warming up to it.

Because it was on the way, I stopped at a grocery store that I don’t normally shop at to pick up a few things, and as I was on my way in, I came face-to-face with one of the more unpleasant episodes from my past, my first post-divorce boyfriend. You know, the one who seems normal at first, but turns out to be a crazy lying alcoholic semi-stalker bastard?

Come on ladies, admit it. All you divorced gals have one of these.

He was pushing a cart full of groceries out of the store, and his gaze was fixed on the cart. I kept my eyes on his face, silently daring him to look up, but he didn’t.

I thought at first that he didn’t recognize me. I haven’t seen him in four years, and since then I’ve lost a lot of weight and changed my hair. I was also wearing sunglasses. But then I remembered that, in addition to being a coward, he was a remarkably good actor, and I ultimately decided that he had seen me after all. He had seen me and understood on sight that I have become a powerful Goddess who could crush him with a look. A Goddess with a Kate Spade handbag. And he was forced to avert his eyes for fear of an agonizing death in the Cub Foods parking lot.

I have chosen to believe in a lot of very self-destructive things in my life, and that guy is one of them. I like to think I have learned to choose better since I had his calls blocked from my home phone.

My new handbag, on the other hand, had my back yesterday. I’m sure I would have been able to shrivel him with a glance even without it, but having Kate Spade under my arm definitely reinforced what was already there. And that felt very real to me.

I think it’s proved its true worth. So I’ve decided to go ahead and believe that this particular handbag is 100% genuine.

Right after one more Febreeze treatment.