“all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”  // e.a. poe

if it were dreams that could divine who and what we are, what does it mean when i can rarely, if ever, remember my own?

i know it happens, only because i’ve been told countless times that it does, yet, i’m just not present enough in a deep REM state to acknowledge that all my teeth have fallen out and i’m on a pink carousel horse in the middle of field, with nary a murmur of clothing on me, but for a pair of white athletic socks drawn to my knees.

picture it. actually, please don’t.

well, at least i can dream up a fairly interesting vision. and if there was anyone that could correlate a tie between a dream and a handbag, it would be me. see, i believe if you’re fairly self-aware, your dreams tend to be just a little bit flat, because those unconscious thoughts, they bubble so near the surface, they don’t need to return in the middle of your sleep. i’m too lucid to be unable to comprehend my deepest idiosyncrasies, so instead, i shove it all down – into the largest of bags, knowing that should i ever need to bring anything up (a tissue, a lip balm, a day planner, a fear of heights), i’ve always got it close, just in case i need to hold on to something tight, let it go, in a hurry.

chloe

openingceremony

christopherkane

thakoon

 

➝ source : marcie small cross-body bag via chloé

➝ source : small athena lunch bag via opening ceremony

➝ source : christopher kane small leather tote via matches

➝ source : hudson leather shoulder bag via thakoon

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