So most of you know I find my treasures on ETSY. I type in the search bar "vintage needlepoint handbag." And then I filter to the newest listed as I search quite frequently. This beauty popped up:
And if you like that side, how about this one:
Cool--right? This bag came from the South of France and the maker used several pieces of canvas to craft the bag. I fell in love with the lady. The bag is about 14" x 14". A little large for me to carry as an every day; however, it is perfect for--needlepoint!
Inside is a cute light colored flower print and three pockets. I did ask the maker to cut the leather handles down for me as I use tote handles, not over the shoulder.
Isn't this a clever idea?
The sales on this holiday anthology are still outstanding! Who knew? But if you didn't... Check 'er out:
“Holiday Handbag Extravaganza” by Vicki Batman: Christmas Countdown is on! Hunk-a-licious customer, Jack Treadaway, pesters boutique owner, Callie Woods, to locate a vintage handbag for his mother. Too bad the wedge between them is his sister, the meanest girl in town.
What a mess.
The bell sitting on the counter above my head ding-ding-dinged in an irritating way. I huffed. Really?
Then I heard, "Hey,” —two dings— “I need help. Anybody working today?"
Despite the din assaulting my ears, I didn't answer, and not because I was mean. Because I was a woman on a mission. It was imperative I retrieve the hundred dollar bill that had vanished when The Copper Teapot's front door had erupted wide with a wintry gust. All kinds of stuff had gone flying like price tags, papers, and hard-earned moola. In today's sucky economy, every smidgen of revenue mattered.
Obviously, this guy couldn’t see me crouched down on the floor. His toe tapping and bell ringing conveyed his impatience. Sticking the ruler in the gap between the floor and the showcase, I bit my lip and concentrated, waving the tool back and forth so I could snag the elusive dinero. Another three-note ding sounded, and I rolled my eyes before singsonging, "Just a...minute, please."
Fingers drummed above my head. I shrugged my shoulders, thinking, rats. Every customer is important. Guess I should be a responsible business owner and do the right thing. "Be right with you."
"Okay, but hurry."
"Almost...there...Got it!" I jumped to my feet and dangled the money in his face. "Pay day."
I finished my jig to check out the customer only to find —Oh By Golly— Jack, as in the Jack Treadaway, the hunky hunk from Sommerville High School days. I couldn't believe this man graced my shop.
Why was he here?