Real men want bags for all our modern stuff
Brothers, it’s time to take a stand.
It’s time to throw off the shackles of the matriarchy and fight for our right to carry unnecessary junk around in little leather satchels.
It’s time for kiwi men to say ‘‘no’’ to pocket carrying and embrace the handbag.
In the 1990s pants were so large and tent-like that the pockets themselves were voluminous enough to keep another pair of pants in.
But fashion flipped and pants got tight. Really tight at first. So tight we could tell a bloke’s circumcision status.
Once pants slackened, men were so happy to be able to have children again that they failed to notice how much pocket real estate had been gobbled up in the transition.
My question to society is how-in-the-hell are we supposed to keep all the junk that comes with modern living in our pockets while maintaining a flattering and on-trend profile?
The answer’s right in front of us. It’s called a handbag and the only thing holding me back thus far has been fear of being labelled a sissy.
Have you ever known a woman who keeps so much in her handbag that it’s like a little universe?
Pen, paper, lippy, hand cream, a cellphone, tissues for snot-nosed brats….
Yet men are stuck with a couple of pockets. ‘‘No more,’’ I say, ‘‘I want a handbag’’.
Remember, this is coming from a guy positively oozing toxic masculinity. My boy’s school education was so toxic and gross that it wasn’t until I was a decade out of school that I managed to have female friends.
And if you got a bunch of my hairy, leatherclad biker friends around, we’d appear so goddamn masculine and homoerotic that we might as well be posing for a Robert Mapplethorpe photograph.
I like loud cars, old bikes, UFC knockouts and cutting trees down with chainsaws. I’m not some metrosexual blouse trying to trick blokes into looking silly.
I’m just a normal kiwi bloke that wants to rock a handbag.
I’ve found a short-term solution. I’ve invested in a sleazy leather bum bag. But with a bum bag it’s hard to not look like a guy selling tickets to a chocolate wheel or a drug dealer at a rave.
I know, enlightened women will be pointing out that pockets are the work of the patriarchy, another way to keep sisters down.
But that doesn’t change the argument. It just creates the conditions whereby negotiations can begin.
I propose we give women all the pockets they want. Pockets in every dress and skirt. Pockets in pants that are actually useful. Heck, they can even have the silly little T-shirt pocket that I’m yet to work out what it’s for.
In exchange, we demand access to the world of handbaggery.
What if — and I’m just riffing here — but what if the Scottish were more fashion forward than we’ve given them credit for? What if the Scots were the template for current fashion trends? Stop for a moment and think about it. The big shaggy hair and beards; men wandering about the place without a care in the world while rocking a skirt; knives tucked into their socks like bad-ass gangsters; tartan/plaid as an identity statement long before it was appropriated by lesbian culture which in turn had it reappropriated by those damned hipsters.
And to top it all off, they had a great wee handbag slung around their waist which they called a sporran.
Bang a strap on that sporran, chuck it over your shoulder and what’ve you got?
You got the 21st century manbag – the musthave accessory this summer.
What if the Scottish were more fashion forward than we thought?