Daphne squeezes a pouch

As any woman will testify, a handbag is a deeply personal item, and one which is chosen with a great deal of care. It is like a boyfriend: it needs to be strong, generous, adaptable, have lots of staying power and plenty of pockets. Also, just like a boyfriend, size matters. It has took be said though, that although size matters, it doesn’t necessarily follow that bigger is always better. It is true that one which is scarcely bigger than your lipstick is really not going to satisfy, an utterly ENORMOUS one, whilst it might look like the answer to your dreams when you first clap eyes on it, may prove to be a mixed blessing. Plenty of women have been thrilled at first to have a huge one, only to discover after a bit of use that it is inconvenient. If not properly filled out it can easily go floppy and misshapen after a short while. Also their bulk can cause storage issues;we have all had those problems with trying to cram them into somewhere they will scarcely fit, and nobody is comfortable with that.
Daphne wanted a new one. Her old one wasn’t really big enough, and over time had gone rather saggy and she was a bit embarrassed to be seen out with it.

There was a new shop on the high street: The Baggage Emporium, and Daphne had been inspired by its window display to try her luck there.
It was full to overflowing: entering there was, to extend the metaphor, like a woman stepping into a singles bar. There were available bags everywhere – all colours, sizes and designs. She was dazzled and wandered around for a while looking, occasionally touching, very gently, once or twice even picking up. She didn’t notice the man who was standing by the counter – the only real man in the “singles bar”. Eventually he cleared his throat (it was blocking the light a bit) and she looked up suddenly and saw him. He was dark skinned, with fashionably untidy curls. He had flashing dark eyes, which is very unusual. He must have a battery somewhere.
“May I help you?” he asked sweetly, some sort of foreign accent adding to his considerable charms.
“I’m looking for a bag” she answered, pointlessly
“So I see. Well… you have come to the right place. We have plenty to choose from”
Daphne nodded. “It’s so difficult to choose. A handbag is so…personal”
The man nodded; he was aware of this issue. In fact the personal nature of dealing with women and handbags was one of the reasons he had opened the shop.
“Tell me what sort of thing you like in a handbag” he said, coming towards her and standing so close that she could smell his earthy aftershave, which she liked very much.
She found her voice a little quavery as she replied
“I’d like quite a big one -”
“Good” he said
“Roomy, without being too bulky” As she said this she glanced at the man, close beside, and noticed his toned torso…roomy, but not too bulky
“What about this one?” he asked, reaching for a large grey bag with long handles. He put it into her hands and she felt it, running her hands all over it.
“I like mine to be really soft” she said
“You do?” He seemed surprised.
“What about this one?” He indicated a smaller one with two shorter handles.
“Then feel this one”
She took it from him, enjoying the way the soft leather folded amongst her fingers.
She gave it a cautious squeeze
“You like it?” he asked. She nodded.
“You would like to feel some more?” She nodded again.
He selected a few other bags of various designs, all distinguished by being made of very soft leather. he smiled at her reactions; “You like leather, don’t you?”
“Oh yes!” she answered, eagerly. “It’s GOT to be leather. I like to feel skin against me”
“I agree! This is the best thing”
On impulse he lifted down a small bag which was an unstructured pouch shape, and dangled it over her palm. “Feel this”
“It’s much smaller than I would like” she protested, but he insisted
“Hold the sac in your hand” he said “you will find it bigger than you might expect. The whole thing sort of, grows, as you use it”
She closed her hand around it, gently.
“Give it a little squeeze. Feel it. It is the very best” She looked up at him, a strange yearning look in her eye (Just one eye)and did as he instructed.
“Mmmmmm…”
Neither of them was quite sure who had made the noise.
“Did you like it?” he asked, though it would have worked if SHE had asked HIM, too
And in both instances, the answer would have been yes.
“I have some more of these, but they are not on display. Would you like to see them?”
Daphne would like to
“Come through to the back” he said, quickly flipping the door sign from OPEN to CLOSED as he went past it.
In the relative gloom of the storeroom, a treasurehouse of glorious handbags, he looked along a number of shelves until he found a box of the little sacs in assorted colours.
“Put your hand in, see what colour you find”
Daphne pushed her hand into the box, slithering it in amongst all the soft bags, enjoying the feeling. She pulled out one which was vivid fuschia pink, and laughed at the gorgeous brilliance of it.
“It is very bright” he concurred “but I have another which is not so bright…It is very, very soft though”
Daphne turned to him, smouldering, which is embarrassing and she was glad the storeroom was gloomy.
“Does it have handles?” she asked
He thought for a moment “Yes, it has a handle”
“Good. I like to be able to get hold of it easily”
“Oh you will” he assured her
“Will everything fit in though?”
He assured her she would have no trouble with size.
“Does it have a zip?”
He told her it did, in a manner of speaking.
“Will it go over my shoulder?”
He said it was worth a try

Daphne tried out the bag, and found it was very much to her taste: being of perfectly satisfactory dimensions and indeed able to go over her shoulder, and many other places too which she had not even thought to ask about

All in all it was a good day’s shopping