pierredeuxthe other day, i found myself walking down 59th street between 1st and 2nd and passed by pierre deux. a flood of memories rushed over me. when i was a young teenager, i wanted a pierre deux handbag more than anything. all the cool girls at temple carried them and i thought they were the most wonderful purses in the entire universe. i begged my parents for one and they wouldn’t let me have one. not even if i bought it myself (i remember it was $35). i was beside myself.

then, someone went to france. i can’t remember who – it must have been a friend of my mom’s. and she brought me back a purse in a blue pattern. i should have felt estatic, even privileged that i had a a bona fide french purse. but i couldn’t help feeling like a phony, like i would be spotted a mile away with a faux deux. although i felt a sense of shame, i wore the purse – which would eventually contain a true pierre deux coin purse that i purchased (with my own money).

of course, today i can appreciate that my mom arranged for me to have a french purse. it was thoughtful and kind, considering her (most likely) desire to delay my inevitable growth. but i will never forget that sense of longing and desire that i felt.

Advertisement