There are bags, and then there is THE bag. I remember this bag so clearly, it was a gift from my father, who was working as an executive for Saks Fifth Avenue at the time. I don't remember the occasion my mom received it, (Birthday? Holiday? "I'm sorry" gift?) But what I do remember was her reaction, a dropped jaw, followed by a crazy grin, followed by her flinging it over her shoulder (it's worth noting that she was wearing a nightgown at the time) She loved this bag. It was so perfect with her late 70's camel and denim day clothes, and her equestrian phase, when she used to show jump on a horse named 'Flash' (I kid you not!) As the years went on, and this bag became too heavy for her to comfortably carry, it would get less an less use. Each time I would come home from college, I would eye it, and with her permission, wear it. And then one day, many, many years later, I jokingly said to her "ya' know mom, no one wears Hermes anymore… can't I just have it?", she was quiet for a moment, gave me a "cut the B.S." raised eyebrow, and then a sweet smile spread across her face and she said "you can have it" That was my mom, she loved her things, but she loved giving more. She was generous, always, with her possessions, and even more so with her love. She knew I would wear it and cherish it, she knew it would have a second life. It is a heavy bag, and now when I wear it, sometimes I feel like she is physically by my side. As she is always in my heart. Love you.