1. The Portable Personality
You ever notice how a bag starts to become like a portable version of your personality? Not even in a deep way. Just… whatever ends up in there, for better or worse. A handful of items you forgot you needed, a few that make zero sense, and one or two that honestly hold your life together.
My bag’s not fancy. It’s got a busted zipper on the inside pocket, some questionable crumbs, and a mysterious black smudge that might be ink or mascara. But it’s mine. And what’s inside kind of says more than I’d care to admit.
Like, I found a paper fortune from a cookie in there last week. Said something like “You will discover unexpected treasures.” Accurate.
2. The Magic of Useless-Looking Items
Here’s the thing. Some stuff looks like clutter until the exact second you need it. A tiny flashlight? I’ve used it. Safety pin? Lifesaver. One time I had to reattach a button in the back of a cab. Who even am I?
There’s a quarter with a dent in it I’ve carried around for maybe ten years. It’s not lucky. I’ve had bad days with that quarter in my pocket. But it’s stayed. Why? No idea. Maybe it’s the one thing I haven’t lost, so now I keep it on purpose.
There’s also a pouch in the bottom that used to hold makeup. Now? Total grab-bag. Cough drops, pens, a rock I thought looked cool when I was waiting for a train, some earbuds that may or may not work, and — weirdly essential — a mini screwdriver. It came in a Christmas cracker. Never knew I’d actually use it. But I have. Three times.
3. Things I Didn’t Expect to Like
So there’s this solid bar I bought at a market stall once — no label, no pitch. I just liked how it smelled. Turned out to be an eco lotion bar and let me tell you, I thought it would melt, fall apart, or get lost in the abyss. Nope. It survived summer heat and my careless bag habits. Kind of citrusy. A little earthy. I use it on dry hands, elbows, even lips when I forget chapstick. Game-changer.
One day I was digging around and found a mini tin I completely forgot about. Opened it? Boom — eco deodorant in stick form. Didn’t even remember putting it in there, but it came in handy after a mad dash across town. No weird residue. No overwhelming scent. Just… normal. Worked. Didn’t expect much, but honestly I use it more than the roll-on at home now.
Some of my favorite things end up being the ones I don’t overthink.
See also: Protein Smoothies for Diabetics: Healthy & Blood Sugar-Friendly
4. Sentimental Chaos and Snacks
There’s a keychain I bought at a gas station on a road trip in 2013. It says “I brake for snacks.” The print is faded and the chain is rusting, but I can’t bring myself to ditch it. My best friend and I laughed about it for like 10 minutes while waiting for microwave burritos.
I’ve also got a tiny notebook. I don’t write in it regularly, but it’s there. When my phone dies and I need to jot something down, or when I’m people-watching and something funny pops into my head. It’s full of half-sentences, grocery lists, one-liners, and reminders I never followed through on. Still, I flip through it sometimes and find a version of myself I forgot about.
Always a snack. Always. Even if it’s half a granola bar in a crumpled wrapper. Hunger doesn’t care if you’re between meetings or stuck in traffic.
And receipts? Endless. Some are from stores I don’t even remember going into. One’s from a sandwich shop I visited on a Tuesday in July two years ago. That sandwich? Top-tier. I remember every bite. So yeah, I kept the receipt. Don’t ask why.
Sometimes I find things that make me laugh out loud. Like a plastic dinosaur I apparently carried around for two months. No memory of putting it in there, but he felt right at home between a pair of earbuds and a piece of gum I should’ve thrown out.
5. The Comfort of the Familiar
Not everything has a story. Some things are just… mine. Like a pen that writes so smoothly I panic every time I misplace it. Or a scrap of ribbon I tied on the zipper to replace the broken pull-tab — not functional, but it looks cool.
And let’s be honest — even when I clean the bag out, half the stuff goes back in. Not because it’s essential, but because it’s me. I don’t do pristine bags. I do slightly chaotic, vaguely sentimental, occasionally useful bags.
Some people love a minimalist bag with exactly four items, all neatly packed. Respect to them. But I’m not that person. I need a little clutter. A little unpredictability. Something comforting about knowing my bag holds multitudes — even if most of them are oddly shaped and make no sense.
I don’t want to carry a curated life. I want to carry a lived-in one.
So if that means having a pack of gum that’s more wrapper than gum, or a Band-Aid that’s probably expired, or a USB stick I can’t identify but refuse to throw away — so be it.
It all matters. Or maybe none of it does. But either way, I’m keeping it.
I guess what I’m saying is… some items become little anchors. Not in a deep emotional way, just in a quiet, familiar way. The things you reach for without thinking. The objects that sit at the bottom of the bag until the exact second you need them.
And when one of those things also happens to be good for the planet? Cool. Bonus points.
I didn’t set out to make my bag a shrine to eco-consciousness or organization. It just sort of became a collection of items I trust — and over time, some of those items happened to align with my values too.
No pressure. No grand gestures. Just small decisions that turned out to be good ones.
So here’s to the weird mix of stuff in the bottom of your bag. To the rock you picked up for no reason. To the broken zipper you never fix. To the things that make your day a little easier — or at least a little more you.
Dig around in there sometime. You might find treasure.
