The Handbag Monologues

Ways Handbags Are Like Vaginas:
In your 20s, your vag is young and fresh, and associating not at all or occasionally with whatever is cute at the time. Your bag is small or even tiny, and is so exclusive that only half of what you want to take will fit inside at any given time. It is clean and the zip works properly.
In your 30s, you are not so young, or so fresh because of the use and abuse of the previous decade. You probably have kids and so, your vag is merely the exit ramp for the fruits of your husband’s loins. Your vag needs maintenance, and often an audience is involved. Your handbag also has quite a few similarities that you might not be happy about: it’s bigger, it’s heavier, there are leavings from children, it has stuff on the bottom of it that you don’t know what it is, you worry that your husband can’t find what either of you needs inside it. The zip is broken, the strap a little frayed, and the whole thing is faded even though it’s not really that old because your husband bought it for you just before the baby was born.
Heading towards your 40s, there are less kid leavings, if any, in your vag as well as your bag, and you might be friends with your gyno because you visit less often for a gloved inspection, you hopefully get more !hello! and less child-related hullabaloo when it’s supposed to be bedtime. Your handbag might also have shrunk, with only a few things inside and not many things for the kids because they are old enough to carry their own junk if they can for one minute leave their junk alone. Your handbag might even be a bit cheeky again like your younger self.
I can’t think beyond 40s because right now I’m sticking with my super cute striped Betsy Johnson, and I’m not telling what’s inside.

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