Never Judge a Girl by her Target Bag

It was late fall in 2007. I had returned to my college town of Oxford, Mississippi, to attend an engagement party for two dear friends. It was going to be the party of all engagement parties, as the couple had been very popular and well known throughout their college career, and other than sporting events, there wasn’t that much to do in the tiny town at that time.

A group of us had arrived a few days early to kick off the celebration. After all, most of us were fresh out of college and still doing our best not to grow up. We used any excuse to get a head start on a celebration. Our parents were all hosts and hostesses and were busy with the planning, so the only things we were responsible for were enjoying the extended weekend to the fullest and simply showing up. Wouldn’t it be nice if life was always that easy?

The night before the big soiree was a Thursday. Thursdays can be one of the best nights to go out in Oxford around the town square. The small city had not yet received the influx of Saturday game goers, and most of the college kids were lying low, too hungover from the night before and saving their strength for the upcoming game day weekend.

At this point in my life, I was finding out what it was like to make it on my own. I had my first job on the graveyard shift as a bedside nurse at Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville, Tennessee. I was the low man on the totem pole, making the minimum salary, feeling like a vampire with my new schedule, and budgeting weekly to get by. But I was completely independent and damn proud of it.

I had recently been to Target (or Tar-Jay as my friends and I referred to it while using our best French accents) to buy my essentials for the trip. As I was there, I happened upon an adorable black purse- very classic and chic. I thought it would be perfect for the weekend. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was cute, and Lord knows I was hard on purses, especially while living it up during a night or two on the town. I looked at the price tag and was excited to see it was only $29.99. I was thrilled! It was below my budget and would go perfect with my planned outfits for the weekend. And let’s be honest- I was not at the point in my life where I had any business buying designer bags.

Thursday night rolled around, and I met many of my friends at the local watering hole we frequented way too often in college. As I sat next to the groom to be, I noticed a tall, thin man, roughly six or seven years older than me, giving me a strange look. Let’s call him Jack, because well, that is a very common name, and also because it’s short for Jackass. Jack walked over to me and asked me if I knew the man I was sitting next to and the fact that he was engaged to be married, acting as a self-proclaimed bodyguard. My friend, who was more like a brother at this point, was oblivious to the rude questioning and lost in a whole different conversation of his own with another person. He sat quietly, sipping his drink, not realizing what was about to happen. I’m still not sure if he knows what occurred to this day.

I responded to the slim self-proclaimed body guard and said, “Why yes I do. He’s my bud, and he’s actually engaged to my friend. Do you know him?”

Jack scoffed, “I’m a dear friend of his, and I think you need to leave.” (It turns out Jack had been a roommate of the groom’s brother years ago.)

I looked around, thinking this guy was surely joking, but no one was paying our interaction any attention. “Funny, I’ve never seen you before, dear friend. And why would I need to leave?”

About that time, good ole Jack looked at my fashionable new bag. He pompously changed the subject, and asked, “Where did you get your bag? Target?”

Finally! Something we could connect on. Thank God. “Why of course! How did you know?” My smile filled my face.

“Easy. It looks cheap.”

I was appalled. I couldn’t believe Jack the Jackass in front of me was talking trash about my new bag, which went perfectly with my outfit might I add. I looked over and hadn’t even noticed my friend had excused himself to use the restroom, completely aloof to the situation brewing around him. As I began to open my mouth to let him know exactly what I thought of him, two of my girlfriends stepped in and removed me from the situation. I was livid. I couldn’t believe the disrespect and snobbery I had just received from the grown jackass of a man. He had no idea how many strangers I had to take care of on the night shift to buy my new purse- how many times I had been thrown up on, how many asses I had to wipe, how many hands I had to hold while people transitioned on. Now, I was no saint, but I’m pretty sure I could skip a few people in line at the pearly gates for that job.

After my girlfriends calmed my reactive self down and reminded me how ridiculous and not worth it the whole situation was, I went on to enjoy the first night of the celebration weekend. Besides, deep down I knew better than to waste any energy on him. And he was also the first man who ever noticed my purse which then led to many questions in and of itself.

The following night was the night of the engagement party. I put on a beautiful silver silk wrap dress, black peep toe pumps, and my late grandmother’s gorgeous vintage jacket with a mink neck and cuffs. I paired it with my new Tar- Jay bag.

As I arrived fairly early to support my friends, the mother of the groom asked if I would be so kind as to greet guests when they arrived and point them to the beverage station. I happily obliged, and as I went to my spot I saw some of the first guests to arrive. There were prominent business men, senators, famous female literary greats, and many more of the who’s who of Mississippi. I greeted each of them and dutifully fulfilled my role.

After about twenty minutes the groom’s mother brought me a glass of champagne. She was just about to relieve me of my duties when none other than Jack the Jackass walked in with his beautiful wife. The mother of the groom delightfully hugged them both and proceeded to introduce me. “Jack, do you know Susannah? She is a dear friend of both the groom and the bride. You must have met each other at some point.”

I knew it would not be appropriate of me to act out in that gracious moment, even though my insides screamed for me to ream him a new one in my best Julia Sugarbaker way. I smiled, then gracefully turned to the groom’s mother. “Why yes, we actually met last night. And he was even asking me about my purse. He said he wanted to get one just like it for his wife.” I sharply cut my eyes toward Jack.

Jack’s face immediately flushed, then he hung his head low. The groom’s mother obliviously turned to me again, “Oh that is wonderful. And I do love that purse you have. I noticed it when you walked in. I need to know where you got it so I can grab one myself.”

I smiled a Cheshire cat sized smile and replied to the fancy mother of the groom while looking straight at good ole Jack, “Oh, of course. Target. They have the best.”

And so goes my first encounter with Jack the Jackass. I run into him from time to time. In fact, I saw him about a month ago. He’s still married to his beautiful wife, and he actually re-apologizes for our initial meeting every time I see him- blames the alcohol that night. And who knows, maybe he actually buys her a bag from Tar-Jay every now and then.

For a classic, inexpensive shoulder back, check out Target’s version here.

Offered from a more high-end brand partner of Target, this clutch is perfect for an perfect upcoming Christmas party. It is currently on sale here.

This classic weekender is just right for a quick getaway and can be found here.

Need a bag to transition from work to night? Try this simple tote found here.