I've always been jealous of women's ability to accessorise, namely with purses. Instead of ruining the lines of their outfits, they get large, external pockets. Handbags, pocketbooks, clutches... whatever size or shape a woman wants, she can carry.
When I leave the house, I have four absolute essentials. Wallet. A six-inch phone. Lip balm. Keys. If I have a jacket with me, there's just enough space for these. If I don't – common as the weather heats up – they will either create unsightly bulges in my pants, or I'll carry them by hand. Neither is ideal.
Men are supposed to only carry large, briefcase-like bags, or maybe satchels or backpacks. We've been told that we either need to be hauling kilograms worth of personal stuff, or carry pretty much nothing at all.
Those "essentials" of mine are only my bare necessities. What else do I really want to carry with me? Sunglasses. Headphones. A small tube of sunscreen. Maybe some Panadol, eye drops, or hand sanitiser. I also need space for receipts, business cards, and other small bits of paper. It's not a lot, but it's more than a pocket's worth and less than what fills a proper bag.
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So last month, I bought a purse. Not a manbag. Not a tote. Not an attaché. I'm proudly calling it my purse. Why? Because men need to carry things too.
This leather bag is about the size of an iPad, and my god, it's genius. I don't know how I ever lived relying solely on clothing pockets. When I'm home, it sits right at the front door of my house so I never have to rush around looking for individual items. They're all in there already, ready to go.
Where's my wallet? In my purse. Sunnies? Already there too. Airpods? I don't even have to check.
This is saving me precious minutes every day when I'm in a rush to get out the door.
A few other male friends have expressed envy of my extra storage. "My massive phone doesn't fit in my jeans", commented one. "Wallets look awful stuffed in your front pocket", said another.
Someone even coined it my kangaroo pocket – "you could almost put your lunch in that thing," he laughed. "So... why don't you get one?" has been my reply to all these guys. I'm always presented with a shrug. Dudes don't feel like it's okay to clutch a small bag. Like a man asked to hold his girlfriend's handbag, he feels emasculated.
I will admit, even in these days of gender nonconformity, I fight with a natural instinct that holding a purse is somehow feminine. I have no judgement for other men expressing their effeminacy, but I still check myself when I'm carrying this thing.
Maybe I have a sliver of internal homophobia left over from my younger days, when the world wasn't so progressive? I wish I could clutch it effortlessly, but I don't.
I feel like people notice this purse, and that gives me cause for hesitation. Not because I'm ashamed, but purely because I'm conscious of drawing unwanted attention. Will I let that stop me? No way.
This pause that I have – this feeling of discomfort – it's all in my head. I push through it because I think it sets a good example. It tells other men that I can carry a purse without shedding my masculinity. It gives others the okay to carry their belongings around without gendering themselves.
And, if nothing else, it might just help get rid of some of those unsightly wallet and phone bulges that look so terrible on your favourite pair of skinny jeans.