"Before You Die" Books and Finding the Perfect Purse

A current publishing trend is to list the things one should see, do, eat or visit before kicking the bucket. I’m sure you’ve seen or flipped through titles such as “1000 Things to Do Before You Die” and “1000 Places to See Before You Die.”

Magazines have also picked up on the “before you die” mania. GQ Magazine did an article called “20 Hamburgers You MUST Eat Before You Die.” (Capital letters are the editor's, not mine.) Other publications have recommend movies to watch and books to read before gasping the final breath. The list of lists goes on and on.

Frankly, I don’t get it. I have enough trouble getting through my own to-do list without trying to fulfill another person’s list. Perhaps these books and lists are for people with no imagination and no lists of their own. Years ago, I remember becoming very irritated with a woman in my book club who wanted to buy a book of recommended book club books. The way I saw it, if you didn’t have at least three books on the night stand and a self-made list of six books you were interested in reading, you should read the writing on the wall: Quit the book club.

A woman in her mid-80’s, an avid traveler, recently told me that one of her children gave her the book “1000 Places to See Before You Die.” I think she felt a little pressure.

And what happens after you’ve eaten all 20 hamburgers and seen all 1001 movies and visited all 1000 places? Does life lose its meaning? Do people actually think, “I can die now”? Or do they go out and buy “1000 MORE Hamburgers You MUST Eat Before You Die.”

I’m thinking of creating a new sub-genre, “1000 Things to Do Before Life-Saving, Intense Treatment That Will Make You Very Sick for a Long Time.” It’s an interesting concept because very few things on my “before I die” list appear on my “before I’m very sick” list. For example, I want to find the perfect purse before I die, but I need to find the perfect overnight bag before I check in to the City of Hope.

I simply don’t have time to find the perfect purse right now. This has been a lifelong pursuit and will, quite likely, continue for the rest of my life. Those who know me well know that I love my Tod’s bags. The leather and craftsmanship are impeccable. The style is classic. And I love those tiny brass feet on the bottom. They come in handy when I’m in a public restroom without hooks in the stall. (Don’t you just hate that?)

In spite of their long list of attributes, my beloved Tod’s are not the perfect purses. I still have to spend far too much time on “search expeditions” for keys and the cell phone.

My friend Carol thought she had found the perfect bag – a diminutive Kate Spade. And, yes, it would have been the perfect bag if she carried only a lipstick, a credit card and a driver’s license. Anything more than that just doesn’t fit. So Carol attaches essential items – keys, cell phone, etc. – to the OUTSIDE of her bag. Her adorable KS now looks more like a pack mule than a purse.

Carol recently announced that the clever Kate Spade has come up with a solution. Apparently, Carol wasn’t the only woman with the pack mule look. KS has created an ancillary purse that attaches to the mini model. And it’s just $200. Correct me if I’m wrong here, but wouldn’t it be easier to take the $200 and just buy a bigger purse?

I think the best solution is to let women “test drive” purses before buying them. Carol would have found that the contents of her life did not fit into her Kate Spade. I would have discovered the search expedition problem.

But, in my case, I can see definite advantages to keeping “find the perfect purse” permanently on my “before I die” list. It’s an elusive hunt, like finding the Lost Atlantis. It will give me a reason to keep fighting for my life. “Stand back, cancer! You can’t take me yet. I have not found the perfect purse.”