Item #1 The Thailand Bag

I'm easing myself in gently with this - something which didn't come out of my own hard earned. Actually it feels a little bit mean to be selling something which was a gift but it's better than begging right?



Anyway. This bag was a pres from my folks who lived in Thailand for two years near the start of the millennium. At the time M & I had very little money so managed only to visit twice; once for our lovely honeymoon. Bangkok itself is a shopper's paradise and this bag comes from (if I'm not mistaken) one of my favourite places in the city to pick up really decent gifts, Narayana Phand. During one of my own visits I picked up a gorgeous pink Birkin-style bag for around £50, which still looks as good as new. You can't have that though...

Looking at this bag now brings back all the memories of our stay in Bangkok. The humid, stifling air, so hot that there was nothing to do but stop every few metres to catch our breath or buy a drink, the kids running around the streets in ill fitting flip flops, splashing through thick, green water which leaked ominously from between paving stones and underneath the dangerous looking twists of cables which hung at just above head height between shops and bars. The amazing sight of an elephant being led along the street as you sipped a beer from an insulated sleeve (charged with the impossible task of keeping your Chang cold in soaring temperatures). Elephants are considered sacred in Thailand, although the CDs hung from Nellie's tail reflecting the neon lights of the slightly sordid bars, the bells strung around her neck and her owner holding out a hopeful hand darkened with grime suggest otherwise. There was so much about Bangkok that made me consider leaving England (believe it or not I love this country despite our unreliable politicians, unreliable weather and unreliable transport system), the city - even when brought to a standstill by traffic, even in the most strikingly modern shopping centres - always seemed a little bit magical, its disorder charming.



So, the bag...right.

Made of a woven strips of dark wood with an arched wooden handle, this little box bag measures approx h7.5" w8" d2.5". A dark blackish-red cotton, drawstring (wooden toggles) bag has been stitched inside. As you can see in the picture the top of the cotton bag is above the wooden frame.

Although not large the bag has loads of space for a decent sized purse, phone, basic make up kit, mirror and cigarettes (all tested of course!) and it looks great with a simple jeans and tshirt as well as with your Saturday night clobber. I used to use it a lot with a wrap top which I also picked up in Bangkok, to be listed later.

Incredibly despite being my companion for several pub trips and being repeatedly thrown in the footwell of cars, the bag really is as good as new without a scratch on it.

Buy it here!

New Years Resolution

My name is Laura and I'm a shopaholic.

This is what you need to know about my brand of shopaholism: it's not just about things and stuff, it's about the process of buying. There's nothing like browsing, choosing, queuing, paying. Ask me what I want to do one a free day? Go shopping. What do I like most about Paris? The shops. My ideal afternoon? One word...Selfridges.

The problem, as my long suffering husband will tell you, is that I'm not just a shopaholic but a hoarder too. Which means that the cupboards, floors, walls, shelves and rails of our rather rabbit-hutchy terrace is overflowing with my purchases, mainly purchases of a fashion (or, in some cases, a distinctly un-fashion) nature. He has attempted in the past to slap a 'one in, one out' rule on my shoe buying, to introduce a systematic storage method for unworn clothes and he regularly reorganises the shoe cupboard in the hope that one day he will be able to find one of his two pairs of shoes without having to strap on his crampons and pack a month's supply of Kendal mintcake for the mission. None of his schemes and plans though can beat the sheer power of my shopping ability. You've cleared a space on that side have you? It's perfect for...THIS NEW SMELLY CANDLE I JUST BOUGHT (it smells of fear, longing and £40 of your hard earned)! What's this? A bare hook? What a coincidence, it's just right for THIS LOVELY NECKLACE FRESH FROM THE SHOPS (made of shells from the coast of Pulau Paliat strung on a cord fashioned from the spit of lemurs)!

For his sake and the sake of my ever dwindling bank account - freelance journalism and an addiction to the Pedlars website do not a good combination make - this new year I am keeping one resolution (the eating more healthily one failed as soon as I woke up on January 1 and craved a sausage and egg sandwich): to wave goodbye to a portion of my purchases.

So here I am using my eBay account - for once not to buy a random cushion case smelling of smoke or a 70s magnetic duck shaped salt cellar from Belgium or even an ill fitting nylon muumuu - but to sell around 13 years worth of clothes, shoes, coats and bags.




This is something else you need to know. I struggle to remember my own children's birthdays and sometimes even their names. However, I can recall exactly where I bought every item of clothing I own. I can remember where I wore it, how much it cost me, who saw me in it. So everything I'm selling has its own little history, a reason for it not making the 'Save It For My Daughter' pile.

In the large piles of fabric which are emerging around the house are some frankly worthless items from supermarket ranges and low end high street shops but there's also some great things too - the odd designer item, things which have never been worn or those that have only seen the light of day once or twice.

What you need to understand is deciding what to sell and then going through with actually selling it is like Sophie's Choice for me. I'm expecting Meryl Streep to be on the phone any day now to demand the lead role in the soon to be made movie of The Great laBay.