Viewing: writing

What’s missing

Lately I’ve been really stressed out about production. My boss, who used to play the role of senior production manager, resigned over a month ago with no replacement in sight. That and an unusually large number of production projects (as opposed to purely graphics-based) have left me picking up the slack and doing most of the production work myself.

Although I realized I’ve learned a fair bit about production since I started this job over a year ago, there’s a lot that completely escapes me, like costing and scheduling. Juggling all the nitty gritty grunt work of production with my creative responsibilities has left me stressed and anxious. I’m antsy for someone to come over and take the lead; while I’ve professed my eagerness to learn the ropes, I don’t want to be (and I don’t think I am equipped to handle) being the sole responsibility for production.
There have been many, many times these past months that I wished I could drop the “/producer” half of my job title and go back to being “just” a writer. Especially during times when an important creative proposal deserves attention and I am bound to spend half the day ringing up all the car rental services in Singapore until I find a red convertible Mini Cooper for a shoot at the end of the week.
Mostly I have been feeling that I haven’t been writing as much as I’d like, or giving my writing (when I am called upon to write) the time and effort that it requires.
So yesterday I finally gave in to the urge to write. I picked up an old book that used to belong to my mom, called The Right to Writeby Julia Cameron, where I remembered seeing writing exercises and prompts. The first exercise was simply called, Begin. And the result of that exercise was what I posted last night.
For the past few months I’ve been feeling that writing was missing from my work. And just last night, I realized that I don’t have to rely on work to supply what’s missing from work.
That’s what life is for. :)

At home

I am at home with my husband, on an uncharacteristically chilly night. It was sunny all day, the only spot of sunshine in two straight weeks of rain, chill and gloom. I was half-expecting the anvil to drop, in the form of a thunderclap or a sudden burst of clouds. And at half-past six, it did.

That sudden, thunderous downpour of rain rang in my head like the dismissal bell on a school day. I quit my work and immediately dropped my good intention of going to muay thai. I rang up my husband and five minutes later, I was in a cab picking him up from the covered walkway at the Somerset station. We cuddled all the way home. Rain pouring down the windows and a certain nip in the air can do that to you.

And now I’m sitting at the dining table in a pair of velour pajamas, with a hot thick mug of Swiss Miss Dark Chocolate beside me. In front of me are the dining room windows, where I can see a reflection of the paper lamp in the living room. Behind the soft yellow glow of the lamp, the shadowy curve of Marlon’s head as he reads a comic book on the day bed. One of the things I love about us is how we can just share space, each doing his or her own thing, not talking to each other or not even in the same room, yet still be completely together.

I prepared a cup of tea for him, a blend of green tea and mint tea in a rather precious hand-sewn, loosely-woven cotton tea bag that I filched from the hotel room at the Fullerton Hotel, where we celebrated my birthday weekend three weeks ago. I added a dollop of honey at his request, and put the mug in his hands with a kiss. Such are the little pleasures of being a wife.

The cat is padding around in the shadows of a room whose door has been left ajar. She does so in silence, which I’ve come to equate with contentment. Now and then the tiny silver bell on her collar tinkles as she moves her head in little bursts of curiosity or restlessness, but on the whole she is quiet and satisfied to have us home, be well fed and to have had her early evening dose of affection.

There is nothing to think about tonight but how to while away the time until eleven or son, when we finally turn in for the night. The choice is a lazily decadent one – do I write or draw or watch television or read one of my many books that are waiting to be read? The luxury of free time is one that I enjoy so much more because of the number of interests I have, although it does get raucous in my head when all of my interests simultaneously yammer and complain that they are starved for attention.

Tonight I choose to write. Write purely for myself, with no deadlines except the very end of this blank page. Write purely for fun, not to convince or sell or illustrate or anything like that. If I am writing to convince anyone, it is myself – to prove to myself that I can still fill an entire page purely for the pleasure of it, that I still have “it”, whatever “it” is.

And it is a good choice. Even better, I think, than deciding to leave work the very moment the rain first began to fall.

Score one for Itaewon

i set out on tuesday determined to find at least one store worth writing about for my article. after the beautiful dud that was the beautiful store, i had started to worry about getting lost all day and finding nothing good to write about in six days.  doomsday scenarios for a girl writing a shopping guide!

luckily, seoul delivered! my first find was a cute little boutique in itaewon, a shopping district known for its international community (which i would discover much later) and bargain shopping. with colorful, funky displays and salsa music blaring out the front door, it wrested my attention away from the other shops in itaewon, many of which were the “wanna louis vuitton? genuine imitation, you see…” variety.

one thing i really like about writing on assignment: being “forced” to engage with people. so very different from writing for corporate or blog purposes. sometimes the story isn’t in a place, but with people. after buying a really cute dress for 49,000 won (about US$49 — a nice easy conversion there, just drop three zeroes), i unleashed my chika powers on the store’s funky manager, jina, and her assistant ayumi. jina’s atrocious english made for a rocky start, but once i had gotten it into her head that me = overseas publicity, she and ayumi instantly loved me! 
 
then i discovered a few shops that sold itaewon’s best-known secret — designer clothes made in korea but for some reason or other do not pass muster with quality control, identifiable only by their slashed tags and whatever fashion stock knowledge you have.
i was tempted to buy a dress that i saw hanging in an itaewon shop (i now realize it was a short version of the evening gown worn by riyo mori, miss universe 2007! and it’s gucci!) but didn’t. a week later, i see oprah wearing it on perez hilton.

i think it’s safe to assume that she didn’t get it at itaewon. 
i discovered to my shock, horror and rage that i had run out of cash — and that marlon’s atm card didn’t work at any of the half-dozen atms i tried! i returned to the hotel on the warpath with the universe. i found it ironic that a girl writing a shopping guide would have so many thwarted attempts at shopping — first the dud that was the beautiful store, now the atm! 
in hindsight, the universe may just have been trying to stop me from succumbing to this temptation at victory town.  
i know, i know. i live in singapore, what the heck would i do with a silver leather jacket?
before i left itaewon, though, i spotted… a first-world kariton! when the street vendors want to pack up and go, they literally close shop and tug it all the way home.

dinner was at a restaurant behind the hotel in the business district of gangnam. 
we would be joining marlon’s multifunctional team, adding pinoys to a table with an indian, thai, brit, pole (as in person from poland vs piece of infrastructure), and several japanese. it was the second time i would be sitting down with a gaggle of p&g’ers (including members of the leadership team) for dinner. the first time was a year ago in mumbai, during which someone at the table called me “incredibly brave” for coming to dinner.
then, i was the only girlfriend to come along for dinner; this time, i was the only wife. but who cares when there is… korean barbecue!!!
and lots of soju (korean sake) which i didn’t like. marlon drank my share, but the brunt of the soju-drinking fell to young umeki from japan, who ate like a horse and giggled, red-faced, through the tail end of the meal. 

i wondered if this electric fan was for exhaust purposes or if it had had too much soju.
at 10:30 pm, kaisy was still raring to shop, so we hit doosan tower (doota) in dongdaemun. jon, i think this is one of the 24-hour malls you were talking about! i asked one of the stall owners (who spoke decent english) what time they closed and he just twirled his finger around in a circle.
doota was great — the ubiquitous kukur was augmented by lovely handmade shoes and clothes from young korean designers. 
wouldn’t you know it. fifteen minutes into my shopping paradise, i discovered that i was wallet-less! after putting some cash into my wallet, marlon had left it in the hotel room l instead of returning it to my bag. 
as you can guess, we had an awful fight about it… after i bought a pair of lovely gold-brown leather shoes on sale. but we made up quickly enough. who can stand to be mad when there’s too much fun to be had, an article to complete… and more shopping to be done?

Thank you for your order

well, that was quick.

i stopped complaining and after a quick conversation with my husband, got over various compunctions (not least of all cost-related) and did something about it.

what finally did it: it wasn’t even the concept of “i am a professional, i need a tool that works” (marlon’s two cents). what finally got me was the possibility of writing as a fun, portable, inspiring and pleasurable process once more. not the technology-induced struggle/drama that would inevitably pop up before, during and after writing, like it’s been lately.

i merely had to think of being able to write by the poolside on a nice day (even by lovely riverside cafes like maya does) and my knees went weak. just to enjoy writing again, i would surmount the special brand of guilt that comes along with getting something you really, really want. and surmount it i did!

the more complex underlying choice finally made with a smile, in the end it all just boiled down to two options: wait a month till the PC show at suntec and hope for a good deal on a mac — or that a PC show will even have macs — or click the checkout button on the apple online store for a refurbished macbook.

i think you can figure it out.

i’m still a bit giddy, but i can’t wait for my new baby to arrive at my doorstep. and when she does, i think i’ll welcome her with a nice sunshiny afternoon by the pool.

All hail the beauty regime

merriam-webster is quite clear on this, and so am i.

re·gime (n.)
rā-ˈzhēm, ri- also ri-ˈjēm
a: mode of rule or management
b: a form of government (a socialist regime)
c: a government in power (predicted that the new regime would fall)
d: a period of rule
i.e. “The Philippines was placed under martial law during the Marcos regime.”

versus

regimen (n.)
ˈre-jə-mən also ˈre-zhə-
a: a systematic plan (as of diet, therapy, or medication) especially when designed to improve and maintain the health of a patient
b: a regular course of action and especially of strenuous training
i.e. “Her daily skincare regimen includes at least five different whitening products.”

i think somebody forgot to tell the singaporeans. not only have i heard “regimen” being swapped for its politically-oriented sound-alike in conversation by the locals (“swimming is good exercise regime, lor“) , i’ve seen it published in more beauty and fitness articles than i can count on both hands. i guess it’s easy for the average joe to confuse the terms, but i would have expected more from editors, particularly of some of the international glossies they have around here.

my mental nitpicking has finally found a voice simply because my first assignment for a local mag involves writing about a skin “regime”. yep, that word appeared on my job brief. and now i am faced with an interesting professional dilemma. do i:

a. sell out and use “regime” just to fit in? (the very thought makes my scalp bristle)
b. avoid using the word altogether? (a truly creative exercise as it is a skincare article)
c. use “regimen” and meekly await the inevitable striking of the n?
d. use “regimen” and eagerly await my chance to educate an editor? (we all love to be right, don’t we?)

i feel like i’m going to get spotted and crucified by a local for criticizing locals, so i’ll say this as well: i’ve found extremely brilliant beauty writers in singaporean magazines. the type who’ll leave copy editors and writers with their mouths open, or drive housewives out to the nearest department store without having to drop the ubiquitous word, “must-have”. (i happen to be both a writer and a housewife, so i know what i’m talking about). they may have to share space with the barely concealed press releases, but they exist nevertheless.

now if you’ll excuse me, i’ve got a regime to attack.

All tressed out

a freebie hair treatment from the kerastase institute last friday = an article that came out in the philippine star‘s ystyle section today.

All tressed out
By Deepa Paul
Friday, September 28, 2007

Welcome to Boracay

after an hour-long flight in an aircon-less, stewardess-less aircraft that i will always cherish in my memory as the “coaster na may pakpak“, i barely remember my first glimpse of the fabled white sands of boracay. i think i might have been a little underwhelmed — the sun was hiding behind thick gray clouds, dulling the colors of everything.

what i do remember vividly, is almost weeping upon seeing the room that would me mine (mine, all mine! moooahahahaha) for the next two days. ah, how the centavo-scrabbling writer of “paradise at a steal” had moved up in the world! first i wanted to twirl around and fall into bed a la julia roberts. then i started really missing marlon. *insert crude thought here*

welcome sight # 1: my room at the boracay beach resort.

home sweet home

the people from fila (i swear! grace under pressure ang mga ito!) treated me and paolo, the photog, to lunch. i believe the frozen lemonade i had at the regency set the tone for the rest of my boracay trips — i went on this two-week long citrus frenzy which included countless calamansi/lemon/mango-lemon shakes, calamansi muffins at real coffee, and the aforementioned lemon cheesecake at lemon cafe.

then we went to work. or rather, paolo went to work.

while i pretty much watched, chatted, looked over some of the clothes, and ogled various boys pointed out to me by a woman more than twice my age and in better shape than me. i played photographer, too.

welcome sight # 2: teams practicing for the dragonboat races that weekend.

score one for the hype.

this is when boracay really started wowing me. i’d never seen the ocean that soft, pearlescent almost-white shade of turquoise before. and the sand was just absolute talc.

my first pair of havaianas. i totally get the addiction now — which is not to say that i actually have an addiction of my own

and presenting the finest welcome of them all: the obliging male-models-for-a-day of the bugsay boracay dragonboat team.

welcome sight # 3: care ko sa girls?

work it! work it!

aside from daniel and sebastian here with their prepare-for-glowy midsections, there were also various groups of men around me at this point flexing muscles, lifting heavy weaponry (isn’t the dragonboat a war vessel or something) and going “harrumph harrumph!” (or “awoo awoo!” as jeline would say). it was all very 300.

i remember marveling at all these extremely fit and tanned specimens (in fairness, pati ang mga girls) and wondering briefly whether this was what God had intended human beings to be. i felt almost sure that beer bellies and thunder thighs were not part of the divine plan.

then it was five thirty, “work” was done, and i was left to enjoy my first boracay happy hour — and my first boracay sunset.

Filipinas

hey, the second article i wrote for the philippine star‘s ystyle section has been published. i’m posting the full text below, but you can also check it out here (not for long, though).

i can type really fast without looking at the keyboard, and i was really grateful for that skill when i interviewed isa (who told me she is rina‘s aunt). if i had been hunched over my laptop, i might have missed how fun and inspiring she was! i was blown away by how firmly she stood for her artistic vision in the face of discouragement, indifference, difficulty and even… drumroll please… offers to buy her work, a.k.a. money. (i would have probably sold out. haha.) i was also blown away when it occurred to me that isa had become what she’d intended the women in her photos to be… real and inspiring.

her staff actually gave me a really comprehensive media kit and press release. theoretically i could have just done a couple of nips and tucks and turned those in well before deadline, but i enjoyed my conversation with isa too much to be a sly, cheating shmuck.

incidentally, i’ve actually been to the unesco house in paris, where isa showed her photographs. acs performed there last october.

anyway, here’s the article. see if you can guess who the “false start” was.

Filipina greats

By Deepa Paul
The Philippine STAR 03/02/2007

To the public at large, Filipinas is a series of photographs of 30 Filipina women. Having first opened in February 2006, Filipinas, the exhibit, shows the faces and stories of women who are pioneers in their respective fields, whose example or leadership paved the way for other Filipina women to become more than what was expected of them. But to photographer Isa Lorenzo, creative director of Silver Lens Photography, Filipinas is “a four-year journey.”

The journey began, as most do, with an idea; for Filipinas, it was Isa’s idea of an “homage to women who have reached lifetime successes.” Having heard about some of these women since childhood, Isa set out to put together a list of women who had, in some way or other, gone beyond themselves in areas that were difficult. “My qualifications for inclusion in this list were accomplishment and age—they must have done a lot in their lives and they must be old enough to not screw up their achievements.”

She intended her list to include only 12 women, but Isa soon realized that the Filipina’s power to inspire, and the number of lives that deserved acknowledgement, could not be limited to such a small number. “We have a lot of Filipinas who are firsts in Asia, like the first female mayor in Asia, the first Asian graduate of the Harvard school of medicine. By the way, she’s 97 and still practicing!” Isa quips.

Getting Started

List in hand, Isa’s journey had barely begun. There was the task of learning about each of the 30 women on the list and hunting down people who knew them—children, grandchildren, relatives, students, and friends—and would agree to deliver Isa’s letters of introduction and samples of her work. There was having to deal with rejection for reasons of health or vanity; an unnamed patron of the arts promptly and firmly declined upon learning that she would have to be photographed without makeup. There was the logistical nightmare of scheduling the shoots, despite the fact that Isa only required a maximum of 20 minutes of actual shooting time. “These women are so busy, it’s insane!” Isa exclaims “The most difficult was (National Bookstore founder) Socorro Ramos – we had to schedule her 15 minutes of shooting time six months in advance!”

There were false starts, too – such as the very first subject Isa chose to photograph. “As soon as I began shooting, I knew I had the wrong woman. I felt like running away! Hindi ko siya kaya!” Isa says, laughing. “I didn’t shoot for three months after that.” Trauma? Perhaps, but Isa is quick to say that she used the time to thresh out her artistic vision for the exhibit, and to focus on what she wanted to achieve with the photographs she would compile. The subject of Isa’s first shoot (a larger-than-life, controversial historical figure) never made the final cut – a conscious exclusion that Isa feels “changed the nature of the project completely.”

Then came the processing of the film, the edits, the search for the paper to print the mural-sized images on, coordination with the printer, meetings with various national institutions as venues for the show, and on and on. The project took roughly three years to complete.

Hitting The Road

Filipinas’ opening night at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) almost exactly one year ago was not the end of the road, but the beginning of a new and unimagined path beyond the gallery. Filipinas traveled to universities all over Metro Manila, where it faced the puzzled scrutiny of students who goggled at the size of the photos and wondered what the big fuss was about these bare-faced, deeply lined, and in many cases, completely anonymous women.

What they discovered beyond the bafflement and curiosity blew them away, much to Isa’s delight. “We brought the show to Far Eastern University, where one girl remembered that she had totally hated her high school. But she had one teacher, just one that she really loved, who made all the difference and kept her from just suffering through high school,” Isa recounts. “These women are like that. It then became very real to these students that just one woman can make a world of difference.” More importantly, Isa says, once students saw that, they began thinking beyond the world of “I can never be like that, I’m not from where they’re from, I don’t have what they have” to “I can make a difference, too.”

From gallery to university to retail spaces and malls, Filipinas continued to move and inspire with its clean, stark images and powerful message. It was only a matter of time until its journey proved to be entirely unstoppable. So unstoppable, in fact, that in December last year, one of the world’s biggest organizations came knocking with an invitation.

Paris And Beyond

Upon the suggestion of Filipinas curator Deanna Ongpin-Recto, Isa had tossed off a letter to UNESCO in July 2006 – and had promptly forgotten about it. So the invitation to show the exhibit at the UNESCO House in Paris came as a total, yet welcome, surprise. Filipinas was chosen by the UNESCO Section on Women and Gender Equality to be shown for a full week, in celebration of International Women’s Day on March 8. Isa was also asked to speak about the photographs and bring her UNESCO audience face to face with a few of the women whose photographs were part of the exhibit.

Paris marks Filipinas’ first step outside Philippine borders – and that, Isa feels, makes a huge difference not just to the photographer and her subjects, but to Filipinas and the Philippines. “The face of the Filipina known to the world is the OFW. But these women are not that. Not many people know about this side of the Filipina,” Isa emphasizes. “People will see that the Philippines has something more to show. It will be acknowledged on a different level, on a global platform.” It is Isa’s belief that that global recognition will pave the way for greater acknowledgment and appreciation where it truly counts – back home.

After being parked in Paris until late spring, Filipinas will continue its journey across Europe in May 2006, visiting Madrid, Rome, Geneva and “somewhere in Germany, maybe Berlin.” The Department of Foreign Affairs has taken Filipinas under its wing and put Philippine embassies to work finding places to show it in Europe; no mean feat, considering the difficulties posed by an election year. “The embassies’ minds are on anything but arts and culture,” Isa says wryly. “But Filipinas is apolitical, neutral, it’s para sa bayan – and they get that. That made it easier, in a way.”

The photographs have been compiled into a book for publishing in June, and arrangements are being made with the Undersecretary for American Affairs to bring Filipinas to the United States later in the year. Having enjoyed a lengthy run uncommon to most local exhibits, Isa is committed to propelling Filipinas as far into the future as it can possibly go – a commitment that stands in the face of offers to buy or borrow select photographs. “This is not a selling show, where the work gets broken up into pieces for sale,” Isa emphasizes. “It was so difficult to gather all of these women. Why will I ever take them apart?”

After traveling abroad and going down the publishing route, what else lies ahead in Filipinas’ path? Isa thinks back to the beginning for the answer. She remembers assembling the list, being extra careful about inclusions or exclusions, combing through fields of society and far-flung communities for exceptional lives, and scrutinizing these lives for ethical value. “It was so hard to find good people who are still good and still at it,” Isa says. “But there are more out there. I just haven’t had an opportunity to meet them, and photograph them, just yet.”

* * *Filipinas is open for public viewing at UNESCO House, 7 Place de Fontenoy, Paris, until March 9. It is presented in cooperation with the Museum Foundation of the Philippines, Department of Foreign Affairs, National Commission for Culture and the Arts, and Cultural Center of the Philippines. For more information, visit www.filipinas.silverlensphoto.com/about.htm

My inner ditz, published

hola from barcelona! — where i am sitting in a rather nice hostal waiting to meet my friend miikka for dinner. while killing time surfing the net, i discovered that my very first fashion piece has been published — it’s in the philippine star‘s ystyle section.

i love clothes and i love writing, but somehow forcing them together in this article was one of the more daunting assignments i’ve taken on. again, i like clothes, and i’m not completely clueless about designers, but ask me about trends du jour and brands and collections… ehhhhh. some people are wired to thrive on this stuff (there’s a multimillion dollar industryful of these people) — after writing this article, i discovered i´m definitely not one of them.

but i enjoyed the writing exercise of trying to wrap my brain around this and at least sound coherent. and since it got printed, i´m assuming i did fairly well. and i’m proud to have done it without resorting to my pet peeve, that ubiquitous, not-applicable-in-the-philippines fashion writing clutchphrase — “this season”.

you can read the article online, but i don’t think the star keeps archives of its web stuff. so i’m posting it here anyway for everybody’s entertainment.


The big bag theory
By Deepa Paul
The Philippine STAR 11/17/2006

Wallet, iPod, Motorola Razr. Full-to-bursting kikay kit. A pair of shades. The prescription glasses you vow to wear more often, but don’t. Twelve-inch MacBook in its snug neoprene sleeve, its charger and a spare battery pack. Red Moleskine notebook, a couple of pens. A jacket, since your office is Siberia in Manila. A slinky black cami for after-dinner drinks with the girls. And since you simply can’t bear the thought of wearing your black work pumps with said cami, a pair of killer patent stilettos. A selection of cuffs and chains to accessorize. A book – just in case you get stuck in traffic. A change of underwear – just in case. The house keys. The kitchen sink. And then some.

This is your life, and you’d be nuts to try and stuff it all into a precious little satin clutch or a darling mini satchel (although you’ve tried more than once). Thankfully, now you don’t have to. The perpetually busy and style savvy can literally live large without having to resort to shapeless sacks, staid boxy suitcase-like contraptions, bulky backpacks, or (horror of horrors) very large paper bags – because in 2006, the big bag is back in a big way.

From Frumpy To Fashionable

Once considered the frumpy old maid aunt of the slim clutch and sleek handbag, the big bag has been refreshed and refurbished with style, enjoying a resurgence on fall runways. Fashion’s biggest names have eschewed flimsy miniatures in favor of more practical, large bags without sacrificing form for function. A number of designers have already invested in big bags, making them a key for look both the current and coming retail seasons – and making the lives of on-the-go urbanites easier and choicer well into 2007.

Inspired by the frenetic lifestyles of New York women, today’s big bags are built to hold everything one could ever need to dash off from work to after-hours pursuits, be it a dinner, yoga class or a evening out on the town. More importantly, these bags sport a stylish gloss that allows a whopper of a bag to transition flawlessly from day to night. So you can cart the kitchen sink to work and back if you so desire, and still look your chic and sexy best – because the big bag has gone from frumpy to fashionable.

Luxe Leathers, Soft Silhouettes

To catapult the big bag from dowdy to divine, designers from Anya Hindmarch to Zac Posen have dipped into an equally immense bag of tricks, which includes a variety of luxe materials, a plethora of details, and a bag hag’s candyland of shapes and silhouettes. But only one size – large, of course.

Luxe leathers figure prominently among the recent harvest of huge bags, with finishes that make the big bag whisper “touch me” rather than shout “I have a million and two things to do today, and damned if I’ll carry one of those silly armpit bags.” Distressed, pebbled, quilted – texture is the name of the game, as shown by the recent runway crop: outsized totes from Prada and Marc Jacobs in deerskin and quilted leather, respectively, as well as pebbled leather hobos from Burberry and rich buffalo leather shoulder bags from Valentino.

The belt isn’t the only accessory that’s going patent and huge as of late; the big bag is hot on its trail. Pick up a huge tote or bowling bag in black patent, resist the urge to match it with your wide patent belt (there’s always tomorrow), and you’ll be all set. Look to Jimmy Choo’s gold-buckled totes and to Anya Hindmarch’s roomy, luxe bowling bags for a little black patent inspiration.

And while we’re on the subject, bowling bags have found fashion favor once more. Bowling shapes abound on fall runways; Marni has released bowling bags in cream and dark brown, dressed up with chains and discs, while Chloe has beefed up its Paddington line with metallic bowling bags. Apart from bowling bags, the hottest big bags come in relaxed and rounded shapes, boasting soft edges, curved frames, and of course, lots of room.

Get The Look

For bag hags who are on the hunt for the new and improved big bag, hie off to SM for the latest textures and silhouettes – without the mind-blowing price tag. Load up on details and embellishments; fall’s harvest of bags are decidedly un-minimalist. Go nautical with stripes and braided (keep one eye peeled for braided handles), equestrian with straps and buckles.

Channel rocker chic with rings, studs, chains, medallions, chunky charms and enough metallic hardware to make any pierced rock icon a happy camper. Don’t be afraid of contrasting metallic embellishment – take your cue from Alexander McQueen’s tan leather-trimmed Novak tote, which features gold medallions, silver stitching and dark brass hardware all on one giant workhorse of a bag. Hot tip: take a cue from the fall fashion shows and carry your big bag of choice by its handles. Not only does it prevent you from bending to one side, helplessly overwhelmed by your own bag, but you’ll look as impossibly chic as the models who carted all of those giant totes down the fall runways.

So don’t be afraid to cart around everything you need to live your jam-packed, hectic and on-the-go life. In 2006, there’s no lack of large bags to help you look fab while doing it. Now if only one could look equally chic and effortless while rummaging for the house keys in that gorgeous but cavernous suede hobo.