The Number You Dialled Has Been Disconnected Part 2
After long last let's circle back with heaping spoonfuls of nostalgia
It’s a part two, so let’s jump back into it. If you haven’t already you can read part one here. It’s not completely necessary to read them in order but if you need some context as to why I’m writing this besides the simple fact that I want to, then make like Maria & the Vontrapps and start at the very beginning.1
My sister, who I should note is much cooler than me, sent me this photo to show me her flower purchase around a month ago. I love everything about this picture: the mid-blue denim jacket, the sliver of coppery hair, the bright flowers against dark grey slabs. But what caught my eye the most was the bag strap. Not only because it was a bag I didn’t recognise so must’ve been a new purchase that I wanted to know more about - it was - but also because it was carrying the flowers.
Years ago I remember a company, that was maybe called flower shop nyc or flower girl or something along those lines, brought out a bag designed in the shape of a conical flower bag that looked like a strong tote with thick handles and high quality material. I loved that bag and the idea that I could use it to carry my flower purchases - and also justify my flower purchases and vice versa. I loved that I could also choose to fill it with my daily carryings: 1 book, a notebook, a pen, 5 lip products, maybe a magazine, an umbrella, sunglasses, my wired earphones that I got after writing part one. Not so sure a laptop would’ve made the cut in that bag but I could’ve tried if I’d been able to afford it at the time. However, I can’t find this bag anywhere online and consequently I don’t have a visual to help you imagine. But I love the idea that the act of buying flowers from the florist or your local supermarket could facilitate as niche a purchase as a flower-specific tote. And with that photo from my sister in mind, every future hauler-type-bag purchase will have to consider its flower carrying abilities.
Occupying the same carriage on this train of thought is the brown paper wrapping of flower purchases. A year or so ago I found a florist near me that would wrap your selection of flowers in brown paper and it was a euphoric discovery that I’d previously only dreamed of.2 I love that where a flower bag would free up your hands to hold things and take calls, the brown paper flowers don’t. You must hold onto them with a delicate urgency. If they fall your flowers risk death and you might as well have flushed your somewhat frivolous and expensive Sunday treat money down the toilet. There will be no taking of calls, no holding of the phone, no drinks in hand unless you’re especially calculated with your placement of held things as you prepare to leave the florist. Brown paper doesn’t seem to go out of style. If you’re someone who saves your wrapping paper for occasion throughout the year then it’s perfect to hoard. If not, it can go into your recycling. There really is no fault - and if you find or have one please keep it to yourself.
Speaking of brown paper, I present the brown paper grocery bag. Sadly these don’t really exist in the UK but they emanate a level of nostalgia for me thanks to films and tv series’ of the 90s and 00s that I continue to watch. These carry a similar connectedness to the self as the brown paper wrapped flowers. They don’t make space for free hands. You’ve made intentional choices at the supermarket/grocery store and now you must carry your choices close to your chest all the way home. Whether that’s a full two-arm wrap around like Laura Harrier is demonstrating below or one in each arm, or just a single-arm hold like the image further down. I like that despite available handles on her Erewhon bag, Harrier has opted to embrace the chosen groceries, and with a wrist hold for extra support. Don’t ask her to hold ANYTHING, it’s not happening.
These women exist in their present act and nowhere else. But seriously why am I walking home with a food shop in my bag, whilst scrolling on my phone for constant entertainment. I do it mindlessly. Do I really need to be watching a get ready with me video at the pedestrian crossing just because I’m neither at the supermarket nor at my apartment yet. It would be nice to live consciously in the interim moments a little more. I think brown paper accessories do that for us, or at least they definitely used to.
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Next up! The sunglasses (or glasses) tuck into the neckline of a t-shirt. I’m pretty sure this is another visual-from-memory of my mother. It was very hard to find good image references of this; a representation of connection to the self through fashion behaviours. But this shot of Catherine Deneuve below presents it perfectly. Maybe even cooler than I’d imagined it. You can see how it slightly pulls at the neck of her t-shirt. It’s the life that such a simple accessory decision gives to our clothes and our belongings. If the sunglasses remain there for a while, it’s possible a permanent dent to the centre of the neckline may live on in the top even after multiple washes. It sets a date, time, memory, outfit into the piece of clothing. The life of our clothes is something I’d like to write more about at a later date, so this is just a small snippet. Taking off your sunglasses and tucking them into the front of your top as a fluid motion is connected to our outward presentation. It can be effortless to others despite being an intentional performance on our part. Until it becomes a way of being, or a way of wearing, when sunglasses are part of the daily fit.
This is another variation of the glasses hanging on shirt. Proof of sartorial choice born out of utility rather than convention. Although it may seem obviously annoying to deliberately dent and “damage” our clothing, it only gets to live as we do. Why wouldn’t we wear our clothes to their fullest instead of preserving a precious piece that was never truly loved?
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I am not suggesting you take up smoking in order to justify owning a cigarette case. Get one anyway if you want. Chuck cash in there. Or mints. Your wired earphones even. They’re very chic. And you can find great ones in vintage/antique stores or even charity/thrift shops. Etsy and eBay have so many. I like the idea of my bag holding containers for yet more things. And if yours does hold cigarettes, well at least it’s not a vape. Don’t you dare get a cigarette case for your vape. I’m drawing a line. A vape wouldn't fit anyway because not chic. I just love a functional accessory that requires effort and a little bit of performance. The drama!
I found a tortoiseshell compact in a vintage shop recently that I didn’t buy and thus have no pictures of. But it wasn’t dissimilar from the above picture. It had room for powder, lipstick and the mirror. The sections were refillable and removable depending on what you might need each day. This is the kind of thing I want in my bag. I remember in the height of my (and probably your) YouTube obsession there was a makeup brand whose products you could connect by slotting the packaging together. I think it was a pre-rebrand Jouer but don’t hold me to that. I was too young then to understand how incredibly functional that was for a cosmetics brand. Now that my makeup routine is about 5 steps, functional beauty packaging would be ideal for throwing in my bag instead of having to say a little prayer that it stays on throughout the day before I leave the house because I can’t bear to lug around a makeup bag.
I like the act of taking a compact from your handbag, opening it and applying lipstick whilst peering in the small mirror. I like it even more when it’s performed in public. It feels like a strong act of femininity. If we’re going to be watched; gawked at; stared straight through, then we should give as little a fuck as possible. Look into that compact mirror and remember who you are. And if you’ve never used a surface reflection to apply lip liner or check your hair, I’m prescribing you a dose of vanity right now. Pick a surface, any surface.
![Marilyn Monroe on the set of "Niagara". Photo by Jock Carroll, 1952. | Marilyn, Marilyn monroe art, Marilyn monroe Marilyn Monroe on the set of "Niagara". Photo by Jock Carroll, 1952. | Marilyn, Marilyn monroe art, Marilyn monroe](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8af98c82-0389-407f-ac00-e77140344d35_1000x969.jpeg)
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Feeling nostalgia for things in this way is teaching me that I have an overarching longing for proof of life. Through possessions and old tech mostly. But also the way we have to act in order to use these things. I don’t want to influence you to buy things you don’t need, but maybe instead consider what you already have that connects you to yourself through the effort and movement it takes to use them. If my possessions are well-loved then it’s evidence of a life that I lived well, and that my things lived too. I will be bringing my old stuff into the future with me. And maybe one day one of my children will write a substack piece on the way I put my hair into a bun and talk on the phone.3
If I think of anymore examples for this series(?) I’ll continue to write more parts. For now though, thank you for reading this far. Ur kind of cool.
Lots of love x
I have very realistic dreams that borderline dull and mundane but I just heart realism I don’t know what to tell you.