Bag ladies

Bryan and I had the none too bright idea to watch the U.S. Open in Little Italy. Somehow the idea of overpriced, mediocre penne and annoying tourists seemed like the perfect way to spend a Sunday. Shortly after we found ourselves a restaurant with a television, two rather rotund, middle-aged Canuck women wedged themselves into the seats beside us. They were toting two black bags, each large enough to contain at least 3 bisected human corpses. The conversation went as follows.

Canuck Woman 1: "I cannot believe how many bags we bought!" CW2 (to the barkeep): "Two Coors Lights, please."

CW1 (to me): "Have you ever been to Canal Street? They have great bags there. All knockoffs, and for $20, too!"

Me (feigning puzzlement): "Don't you mean SoHo?"

Aside to Audience: Only tourists rave about buying knockoffs in Chinatown. The rest of us either (1) pretend we bought them at Bergdorf's and hope our boyfriend's sister doesn't notice when he first introduces us to the family at the Harvard-Yale charity polo match, or (2) don't buy knockoffs in Chinatown, or anywhere else.

CW2: "No, Canal Street. I must have bought my weight in knockoffs there!"

Me: [gives stock speech on the poor quality of knockoff purses and how one would be best served by an authentic bag from a less expensive designer.]

CW1: "Oh, you're wrong, dear! I got this knockoff Balenciaga purse a year ago. Cost twenty dollars. The strap hasn't come off yet!" [she then shows me a garish juxtaposition of black plastic and gold-painted metal]. "My son, who works in the fashion industry, says it's a dead ringer, and he knows his Balenciaga."

CW2: "I don't think I can carry all these bags back to the hotel! We can't even get to our hotel by taxi. The streets are all blocked off because your President is in town for that 9/11 business. Wouldn't it be something if he attended some of the fashion shows along the way? My son designs for Proenza Schouler."

Me (to myself): Bushie seems like more of a Sean Jean kind of guy. You know, to draw urban youth into the Republican Party. Laura seems more like a Land's End girl.

CW1 (to the barkeep): "Another Coors Light, please."

They eventually extracted themselves from the barstools and lumbered out of the bar, managing to knock at least three chairs over as a result of the size and heft of their Chinatown quarry.