Me and The Pocketbook. 1990.

Living Out Loud Volume 5: Your Personal Folklore

Not too long ago my family collectively decided to defy convention and stand up in the face of consumerism, commercialism and card-company holidays. In other words – we quit buying each other gifts just because the calendar said we had to.

I can’t speak for everyone else but I felt freed. I love getting presents just like the next gal, and I enjoy giving a good gift. I just want to give it on my terms, and not because I’m obligated. Never having been one of those people who had all their Christmas shopping done in August, and never planning to be, this works for me. And because I tend to move a lot and travel lightly (hello Salvation Army!) this works for me.

There is, however, one gift that has been grandfathered into the agreement, and that is The Pocketbook. The Pocketbook has been around since approximately 1977; back in the day when my mom would hand my two sisters and I $5 to spend on each other and then set us loose in KMart. Janet, the youngest, found Margaret, the oldest, a beautiful burlap bag painted with the blue-light special interpretation of Balance, the zodiak sign for Libra. Holding the scales was the Greek Goddess of Justice, Themis. When Margaret, preppy, stylish, and 17, opened her package on Christmas morning and came face to face with Themis, she burst into a cackle of uncontrollable laughter, and Janet, shy, awkward and 10, burst into a cacophony of unstoppable tears. The Pocketbook became a makeup bag and was eventually demoted to clothespin holder, shoved in a corner of the laundry room, and forgotten.

Until the day I got married. Somebody, I think my mom, found The Pocketbook and thought it would be a fun thing to wrap up and give to me as a wedding present. Since we opened our gifts at our reception, it was hilarious. The Pocketbook went with me on our move to Tennessee. A couple of years later I unloaded the husband on the US Army and The Pocketbook on my stepdad, Hosa.  And a tradition was born.

There are no rules for exchanging The Pocketbook, but there are suggested guidelines. My parents took The Pocketbook to Disney World and had their picture taken with it along with Goofy and Minnie, so we now try to include a picture of the bag in some “exotic locale.” She’s been to Florida, Colorado, Los Angeles and China.  And it’s best not to give her to anyone under the age of 20 or so, because young kids have a tendency to actually like her, and we’re afraid we won’t get her back.

It doesn’t have to be a special occasion to be honored with The Pocketbook, though birthdays, anniversaries (my parents 25th), graduations and moves tend to rank high. She once ended up crammed in the bottom of an unsuspecting victim’s laundry basket waiting for wash day. I’ve been given to her at a wedding, a going away party to LA and at least one birthday. In the pictures here she was wrapped up and presented to me as a birthday gift from my boss, Denny.

The Pocketbook has even been to hell and back. Janet’s house burned to the ground in 1994, taking The Pocketbook with it and ending, we thought, our legacy. Thanks to Michael’s Crafts and a little artistic flair, she was resurrected a few years later and continues her journey around the family tree. I have a feeling she may very well outlive us all.