By Diane Ako
My husband is hilarious. He was packing for a trip - last minute, as usual: and by that I mean the day of the trip - and was searching for a small carry-on bag.
He came across one that was the right size, but it was mine, and it's very feminine. It's a LaSportsac bag, if that means anything to you. Nothing LeSportsac makes could mildly be construed as unisex.
Since I'm fairly girly, I bought a bag patterned with tiaras, crystal bling, stars, flowers, and lips. I said, "Are you really going to borrow MY bag? You can, but - as a carry on? Really?"
This is what happens when you pack an hour before you have to leave the house, so he took a second, rushed look at it and said, "Yeah. It'll be fine." I think he was hoping that because it's on a background of navy blue, the dark color would mitigate the feminine.
I shrugged. "OK, then."
I drove him to the airport. When he got out and piled the carry on bag atop the suitcase, he looked again and said, "Oh. I guess this is rather ladylike." Then chuckled and left. Yup, too late now.
At least I know he's secure in his masculinity.