Recently on a road trip out West, I had the opportunity to visit the Esse Purse Museum. While your mind may not tantalize with fashion imagery when you think of Little, Rock Arkansas, make no mistake; this curation is executed with impeccable taste, and refinement that could easily fit into the Victoria and Albert Museum. The exhibition has been thoughtfully arranged to embody decades past, starting at the turn of the 20th century, on through the 1990’s. Each case displays perfectly curated purses to represent style and silhouettes for each decade, along with an assortment of ephemera and objects that might have been contained in the women’s purses. You can actually sense the zeitgeist of each era, and this is due to the acute skills of the visual display artistry that went into selecting and arranging all of these items in a deliberate fashion.
The friendly docent explained to me that they are one of only two museums in the world devoted to purses (there was a third, but it sadly just announced it was closing). She told me that the entire collection was curated by one woman, Anita Davis, who is the owner of the museum. While I did not get to meet the owner, I am quite fond of her because I can see the passion and the artistic eye in the way she has collected these items over her lifetime.
1930’s
Below is a statement from the museum about women and their purses, and I thought it was beautifully written.
“What is the essence of womanhood? Despite her inner core that makes her unique, every woman is also an “everywoman” tapped into the collective conscious that preceded her and will exist long after she is but a remembered whiff of cologne, a hint of spearmint in an old handbag, a rosewater scented handkerchief long-buried in a drawer.
Just as the essence of a woman is not her appearance, size, shape, or hair color, the essence of a woman’s handbag is is not it’s style, price, designer logo, or color. The essence of both are the things they carry literal and ethereal — the makeup and the memories, the driver’s license and the driving desires, the hairbrush and the hope, the wallet and the wishes, the lotion and the love.
Not an accessory but the extension of her “self”, a woman’s purse is the container of her essence, the sacred, private space that holds her identity, her valuables, her memories, her dreams, her mystery. Always within reach, her purse is personal space, not a possession but a hallowed repository of the things that make her “her”.
The purse she chooses might be a clue to the woman; “an expensive purse makes me feel special”, “a vegan, political-button-covered bag defines me”, “a vintage bag from my great-aunt’s hope chest makes me feel safe.” But a woman’s purse may change from day to day, to suit an outfit, a mood or a whim. Perhaps its as simple as “pink makes me happy today.”
Ultimately, not a bag but the contents within are the key to a woman. For purses change, fashion rules change –long gone is the era of “matching purse and shoes are a necessity”– and the globalization of the economy means a girl in Arkansas can carry a purse made by a girl in Guatemala. A lady in Little Rock can carry a bag from the Louvre with a click of her computer.
Sensual or sturdy, purses offer so much to ponder the aroma of childhood, remembrances of home, people past and times gone by– and the smell of new leather, straw, hopes, ambitions.
A hint of scent–was my mother just here?
