Style on a Stick

I recently read about a handbag design contest, sponsored by a favorite chick mag. Not since That's Incredible! went off the air have I been so sure of my destiny. I have hands. I like bags. I must enter this contest.

I have a shoe and bag "problem." This is not to say I walk around with strappy sandals hanging off my ears or wearing a jeweled clutch as a sporty hat. I just REALLY like them. It's the old adage, I suppose, about shoes and purses always fitting. Or I've just become really vapid and like my feet to look purty. Anyway: I love purses AND my dad's an artist. Surely I should be able to scratch out a passable purse pic.

So I hunkered down with a pack of mini-colored pencils someone passed out at work last month. The pencils--in 16 brilliant shades (what CAN'T I do with this rainbow of possibility???)--are approximately 2 inches long and my genius literally gushes from their teeny-tiny tips. Before too long I have committed to paper the world's most gorgeous...ducky.

*crumple*
*over-the-shoulder toss*

I return to my scribbles, confident that my father's genes are about to kick in, guiding my hand to victory. How many times did Diane Von Furstenberg have to return to the drawing board? Millions, I'm sure. And did she, I wondered as I surveyed Sketch #2, ever draw such a beautiful moo cow?

*crumple*
*over-the-shoulder toss*

Hours passed but I finally got a sketch down and waded through snow drifts of waste paper--now, I know why Bert & Ernie kept that wire wastebasket close to their typewriter--to scan it and e-mail it. When I win the design contest, I'll auction off the prototype to one of you lucky readers. Be careful, though, when you carry it: the stick you hoist over your shoulder might give you splinters. And the bandanna tied to the end of said stick? Not colorfast.