To keep me company whilst I work on becoming one myself (my children may have a different take on my progression) I keep a selection of old bags all over the house. I have them in the kitchen, the dining room, the garden shed, the landing, the porch and in the car. All in aid of not being unmasked as a heretic in the placky bag department when at a checkout.
“Do you want a bag with that?”
“No” I can say brightly “I’ve brought my own”
Except for a long time I didn’t. I would forget. I would shop on the spur of the moment and get caught short, bagless and be forced to accept and/or pay for a new bag to join the colony back at the crib. As a result, I have bags with ladybirds, flowers, “Roys” which enjoys a certain rep in the Broads (don’t ask if you’ve not been to Wroxham), a tree of life bag, rather a lot of Co-op bottle bags, Recycle for Southend bags, Waitrose bags for life which look knackered after a shop, a bag with elephants on (Indian, British Museum exhibition), a Morrisons bag with rosy apples, a Tesco bag in blue (I forget the motif) – I could go on but I won’t. Thank me later.
So when the kids came home (real thanks to Mary :-))with a string bag for me I did not hold out great hopes for it, but it has been a revelation.
It dwells without demur in my real handbag (I had taken to going out with only a black Tesco “Finest” number in desperation) and pops out eagerly to contain vast quantities of heavy shopping. I love it. Buy one!!!