A few weeks ago, a medium sized leather The Row Idaho bag popped up on The Real Real and before my brain had time to process it, I added it to my cart. TRR has a twenty-minute window to hold items (I wish all sites were set up this way) and it was just enough time to sort myself out. I reviewed my saved photos, looked at online images of the bag and the styling, and realized, I had been falling in love with it, slowly.
When it was first released, I thought it was an odd-looking thing. Disproportionate, inconveniently short handled, and too wide for its vertically challenged height. Nothing about it appealed to me. I didn’t like the shape, I thought it was impractical, and everyone seemed to be chasing it. So, like a true contrarian, I walked away. I let my ego lead sometimes (I don’t recommend it).
When I saw it again on TRR, my perspective shifted. I think that shift is tied to the EW Margaux. Like the Idaho, when the EW was first released, I was underwhelmed and the clatter around it irritated me. Then I came upon one at our local retailer, Holt Renfrew (you may recall I mentioned this on Instagram stories). It was the pebbled version with silver hardware, and when I held it, I liked it. It felt “right”. However, as much as I was confused as to why there was a Margaux just sitting on the floor (a mistake I’m sure) and was tempted to take it home, I passed. Immediately afterwards, I lamented that decision. And then a little later, relieved I didn’t cave. And this is why I need time. I’m a capricious consumer. I spoke with my NYC The Row sales rep, and they made a note of my interest in the EW (in black saddle leather) and told me they’d send it my way when (let’s be honest, if) they received more stock. I was happy to wait because I didn’t want to contribute to the Margaux overpopulation problem. I cherish the ones I have, but their saturation has devalued them for me, though their street value is up.
So that brings me back to the shopping cart with Idaho waiting and the clock ticking. The reason my heart jumped, and I pounced like a puma is because it reminded me of the EW with one redeeming difference – it’s less conspicuous. Even at peak popularity (just a mere few months ago), Idaho wasn’t as common. What’s strange is that I’d forgotten about this style. I’d given it a hard pass, and it wasn’t on my radar until I saw it on TRR. The price was right, I didn’t mind the marks, and I’d been wanting to add more chocolate brown to my collection, so I decided to take it – with a few minutes to spare.
I’m learning that when my impulse is to eschew something with exaggerated emotion, I need to set it on the backburner and revisit it after I’ve had time to simmer. It’s risky business to let The Row sit because in the current consumption climate it usually results in a foregone opportunity. However, it’s what I need to do to avoid a high return rate and, absurdly, I relish the losses because I love a good hunt. Another benefit is that I become very single minded about searches and while all my energy is redirected to the cause, other purchases are put on hold. Better for the environment and my bank account.
It’s exciting to look at something with fresh eyes after everyone else has moved on from it because it’s a more intimate experience. Idaho has stolen my heart (scratches and all) in a way some of my other bags haven’t. I don’t think it’s the prettiest nor have I changed my mind on its practicality…I’ve just warmed up to it, exactly for this reason – it burned slowly into my heart so it’s that much sweeter to see it in my closet. And I should have known I’d come around because for me, Row resistance is futile.
N xo
I love my brown leather Idaho, I bought the last one on Matches before they closed shop. I use it all the time and love how it looks when you tie the sides or it’s overly full and squishes to alter the shape. I think you made a great decision!
It looks great and suits you! I immediately passed on Idaho and Margaux EW at Melrose because of the proportions — Idaho reminded me of a firewood tote, EW looked too lady on me. It’s the ones that I hem and haw about before passing that sometimes become regrets.