Rant, rant, grumble, rant.
Sorry I have just returned from the Office Depot where I waited in line behind honest to God five women with Vera Bradley bags, several even had matching wallets.
Now this is not really that unusual for this area. Loads of my sorority sisters loved Vera, several even bought her napkins (yes the bitch makes napkins) so that they could cut them up and make letters that would match their bags.
No really. That happened.
I have engaged in this conversation alot with various people, some of whom own Vera things and the end result always makes me look like a shallow quilt hating wench. I know in my heart though that I am no such thing, and that goodness will always triumph over evil... its biblical.
I am furthermore convinced that the devil has several matching Vera Bradley collections, with coordinating luggage and that he carries different bags for every day of the week. Perhaps from time to time while torturing sinners in the fiery depths he mentally debates the merits of paisley vs. quilted prints. I would not be surprised.
The kicker though is that they are not even cheap, they are really expensive ugly bags. Realllly expensive. I used to say that they were alright for older women who knit, but my grandmother knits and I would never ever want to subject her to the horror that is a Vera Bradley. Grandma Greene is way too cool for that nonsense.
I have been ranting against this woman for years and I thought that the trend was beginning to die down until I went to the store today and saw that in the enclave of Williamsburg Vera still reigns with her evil pastel fists. Sigh.
Maybe I will be able to escape her in the Boro. Maybe Midwesterners spend their disposable income on fashionable, chic handbags and accessories. Bahahaha right. About that......
I shall close with an antidote,
I was once at a shopping center on a date when he made a point of mentioning that this particular mall had an entire Vera Bradley store which he would be happy to point me in the direction of. He said it in earnest genuinely thinking that I would be pleased and excited by this revelation. He clearly had not anticipated the vitriolic hate filled rant that ensued. Making matters worse he defended himself by claiming that 'all my sisters had them' and that they were 'cute'. Needless to say from that moment on I knew that it was not going to work out.
Call me shallow, call me elitist but I hate Vera and when I stand at the pearly gates of heaven and God is rocking the latest Birkin bag I will know that I have come to the right place. As for those of you who feel comforted by the false promises of a paisley print goodluck with those pitch fork wielding demons, at least your bags will match.
*p.s. If I love you and you own one don't worry I have been praying for you for years and Jesus understands :)
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