St. Regis Purse (Hand-tooled)
Interstate 90, west of Missoula, Montana. Heading into the Bitterroot Mountains in a steady downpour. Radial tires hissing on the pavement. The whole world is gray. Except the lights. White lights speeding towards me; red taillights leading me on. Doobie Brothers pounding out of the speakers. Wipers slapping time. Up ahead, I see someone trudging along the shoulder, little more than shapeless poncho and a pair of legs. Boots moving up and down. I pull off the road, come to a stop, and the shape runs to catch up. The door opens, the pack lands in the back seat, the shape climbs in. When the door closes, the poncho comes off, and a young woman looking like a drowned rat mumbles gratitude. “Where are you heading?” I ask, as I let the clutch out. “I’m just going to St. Regis,” she answers. As we reach highway speed, she falls asleep, and her gentle snoring joins the other sounds of the road. About an hour later, we reach St. Regis, she gathers her belongings, thanks me again, and disappears into the rain. End of story. The one and only time I picked up a hitchhiker. Never saw her again. Never even knew her name. But I often think about her when I drive through those mountains and pass St. Regis.
The St. Regis Purse. When you’ve got some place to go, but you prefer to travel light. Compact, lightweight, seriously attractive. Trapezoidal body with expandable bellows front. Full-width back pocket. Wide flap cover with clasp closure. Adjustable, cross-body strap.
Interstate 90, west of Missoula, Montana. Heading into the Bitterroot Mountains in a steady downpour. Radial tires hissing on the pavement. The whole world is gray. Except the lights. White lights speeding towards me; red taillights leading me on. Doobie Brothers pounding out of the speakers. Wipers slapping time. Up ahead, I see someone trudging along the shoulder, little more than shapeless poncho and a pair of legs. Boots moving up and down. I pull off the road, come to a stop, and the shape runs to catch up. The door opens, the pack lands in the back seat, the shape climbs in. When the door closes, the poncho comes off, and a young woman looking like a drowned rat mumbles gratitude. “Where are you heading?” I ask, as I let the clutch out. “I’m just going to St. Regis,” she answers. As we reach highway speed, she falls asleep, and her gentle snoring joins the other sounds of the road. About an hour later, we reach St. Regis, she gathers her belongings, thanks me again, and disappears into the rain. End of story. The one and only time I picked up a hitchhiker. Never saw her again. Never even knew her name. But I often think about her when I drive through those mountains and pass St. Regis.
The St. Regis Purse. When you’ve got some place to go, but you prefer to travel light. Compact, lightweight, seriously attractive. Trapezoidal body with expandable bellows front. Full-width back pocket. Wide flap cover with clasp closure. Adjustable, cross-body strap.
Interstate 90, west of Missoula, Montana. Heading into the Bitterroot Mountains in a steady downpour. Radial tires hissing on the pavement. The whole world is gray. Except the lights. White lights speeding towards me; red taillights leading me on. Doobie Brothers pounding out of the speakers. Wipers slapping time. Up ahead, I see someone trudging along the shoulder, little more than shapeless poncho and a pair of legs. Boots moving up and down. I pull off the road, come to a stop, and the shape runs to catch up. The door opens, the pack lands in the back seat, the shape climbs in. When the door closes, the poncho comes off, and a young woman looking like a drowned rat mumbles gratitude. “Where are you heading?” I ask, as I let the clutch out. “I’m just going to St. Regis,” she answers. As we reach highway speed, she falls asleep, and her gentle snoring joins the other sounds of the road. About an hour later, we reach St. Regis, she gathers her belongings, thanks me again, and disappears into the rain. End of story. The one and only time I picked up a hitchhiker. Never saw her again. Never even knew her name. But I often think about her when I drive through those mountains and pass St. Regis.
The St. Regis Purse. When you’ve got some place to go, but you prefer to travel light. Compact, lightweight, seriously attractive. Trapezoidal body with expandable bellows front. Full-width back pocket. Wide flap cover with clasp closure. Adjustable, cross-body strap.
