Walking in the Light

There are a lot of things about women that men just don’t understand. We men are simple creatures. We like to be comfortable, we like to be effective, and we like to feel accomplished. Those are pretty much our three great motivations. Be comfortable. Be effective. Feel accomplished. Anything that doesn’t fall into one of those is just lagniappe.

But women – they’re complicated. And not in the way that makes them superior, like the way The Brothers Karamozov is superior to Hop on Pop. They’re complicated in the unnecessary way, like how Finnegan’s Wake is more complicated than pretty much anything ever written. They’re complicated in this baffling, “why the hell is that even important to you?” way.

And, in the same vein, they like weird things. Correction: they are obsessed with weird things. Like shoes, for instance. When a man looks for a shoe, he goes back to those three basic criteria. Comfort. Effectiveness. Accomplishment. Are these shoes comfortable? Are they effective for what I need them to do? By buying these shoes, am I accomplishing my goal of having something to protect my feet or support my ankles so that I can succeed in walking, running, hiking, playing sports, whatever the reason. You will never, ever, ever hear a man call a shoe “cute”. We couldn’t care less what the shoe looks like. And, with the exception of business or dress shoes (which can be explained by the criteria as well), we will always, always, always choose function over style. A woman will buy a 6-inch heel with a tiny toe torture chamber because it looks “cute” (despite the fact that the men will then have to endure an endless tirade about how their toes are bleeding and deformed after wearing the little cuties for a day).

But there is one thing that women almost universally obsess over that men could truly not give a damn about. This thing is perhaps the greatest puzzle to man who thinks he knows women.

Luggage.

Seriously, luggage? I cannot count the times I have been in a store with a girl when she finds some piece of luggage she finds “adorable”, “beautiful” or – that accursed word again – “cute”. I have seen girls go slack-jawed in admiration over luggage. I have seen girls ask random women in airports where they got there luggage.

And this luggage is not cheap! These babies comes with price tags of sometimes hundreds of dollars! Ask a man what he could do with a couple of hundred dollars and he’ll immediately start calculating bills in his head. Ask a woman what she could do with a couple of hundred dollars, and what will you hear about? The omg SOOOOOO CUTE floral luggage they have at Bloomingdale’s that they’re just DYING to have.

So I ask you – what is it with the luggage? Why do you obsess over what is essentially a bag of clothes that no one will see except the grimy airline loaders, the hotel bellhops, and the inside walls of your car trunk? What is it about this that makes you need to have it? At least a purse is an accessory. It’s stupid, but it’s at least regularly viewable. But luggage? You will buy that, shove it in your attic, and take it out 9 months later, smelling like moth balls and probably gnawed on by some rodents, fill it with clothing, and throw it in your trunk. Why would you spend a small fortune on that?

If we lived in a world entirely populated by men, things would be different. There would be no “luggage”. There would be trash bags. If we were feeling particularly flamboyant we might tie a thin rope to the top to distinguish it as ours when it goes to fraternize with the other garbage bags full of clothes. But women will let their electricity go out that month just to get her hands on a new set of luggage.

I think the fascination with luggage is one of the most defining differences between men and women. But hey, it could be worse. They could complain when you leave the seat up.