Silly rabbit, Vera Bradley's for fogues!

What is up with Vera Bradley bags? For some reason young women east of the Mississippi are obsessed with them. They look like rolled-up quilts with zippers, I shit you not. Why, people? They look like something a grandma would carry... and even my Grandma has better fashion sense than that! My illustrious ex-roomie (who is, like me, a West Coast girl) mused that these girls are carrying them to practice for when they're boring housewives who actually find those bags stylish. My spinning instructor had one yesterday. She had long highlighted hair, black leggings tucked into Ugg boots, and... the ugliest calico hag bag Ms. Bradley could conceive.

Maybe it's a handicap thing. In her book "Survival of the Prettiest," Nancy Etkoff suggests that women who smoke are sexy because they are advertising their strong genes. If their genetics can allow them to smoke and look good, then they must be worth mating with. Similarly, really cool, classy, attractive girls might carry Vera Bradley to say to potential mates, "I'm so amazing that I can wear this nasty trash and still look good." Sadly, like smoking, they can't.