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One of my favorite chick-lit books, Confessions of a Shopaholic, features the main character going luggage shopping and feeling as if she's entered an entire new world of things to buy. It always kind of made me laugh, because how often do you even look at your luggage? I have a sturdy blue suitcase somewhere--I say somewhere because I don't know if it's at my dad's current house, our old house, or with my mother. I haven't seen it in years. I just don't think about luggage, I suppose because I so rarely travel anywhere that actually requires it.
I guess it could be kind of fun though--there's some Vera Bradley luggage that's actually sort of pretty. And there's some kind of hot Hartmann luggage in a red crocodile that I like. Not that I can remotely afford it, of course! But someday .... someday, I'll have a matching set of luggage, and trips to take it on, and a couch that doesn't have huge patches of exposed foam on the arms from my cats, and .... someday!
Enough dreaming, time for me to get to work!
Like my fantasy of the 1930-40's railroad station with the glam. woman of mystery..( that would be us sweetie) in the to die for outfits ( the fur would be fake ) sitting atop the large stack of matching Louis Vuitton luggage with the vanity/jewel case in her lap...waiting for her next adventure....yeah...ROTF
Our luggage is either our uber old JCP or the random golf tote bad..or in a pinch the odd Kroger plastic bag