Bamboo — a thin line between love and hate

My neighbors, lovely, lovely people, have a proper forest of bamboo in their yard. That jungle has been trying to make a home on my lawn for years now. While valiantly defending my grass, I have come to detest bamboo, passionately. Until, that it, a few weekends ago, when I spotted, and acquired my latest obsession: a Japanese-style bamboo handbag.

This bag has everything I require in a bag: structure, having been made of molded strips of bamboo, resembling, for the lack of a better word, ribs. It’s not large, somewhere around medium size, and it fits comfortably my life in it: a wallet, glasses, phone, and perhaps, a med-size chocolate bar. It is unusual, due to its shape and open structure, and I think that it will be a perennial I go back to constantly. It looks rustic and handmade, and not perfect. It appeals to my love of finding beauty in imperfection of things, a Japanese wabi-sabi concept. It’s not easy to open, so, despite its open design, the contents will not be falling out or be an easy prey. A win-win. I love that it doesn’t have lining, as it reminds me of those see-through purses that crop up every few decades. Except, my hand bag is not plastic: bamboo is biodegradable, and I have been on the mission to reduce plastic in my life for the last few years. Bamboo is a renewable resource, so, yay! One for the environment. Also, it will always keep its shape. Lastly, I envision myself wearing it while going out for dinner somewhere swanky, or for a daytime stroll in a city.

In conclusion, I am sold. Aren’t you?