Inside my handbag.

Susan and Debra have recently discussed their wallets which I find interesting. Debra goes for the minimalist approach; while Susan prefers something more substantial. Since I am a British female I do not have a wallet but a 'purse':



which of course reflects my life, and how I spend my days, with its assortment of cards from three libraries, one bookshop, the Society of Authors, the National Trust and English Heritage... as well as the usual ones from shops and banks.


My purse is invariably contained within my 'handbag' (although it doesn't fit inside my hand, but hangs from its strap from my shoulder), together with my ipod, my phone, my filofax, several (breeding) pens and pencils, a comb and a fob of keys.

Here is my life. My ipod makes my many long journeys bearable and lulls me to sleep in strange hotel rooms, my phone is an emergency-only device, infrequently used, my filofax and pens are for notes, and the keys mean that I live in a place that has to be locked and I have access to a car. In a few years all this might change. The purse, filofax, ipod and phone will go and there will be a superkindle sort of device which does everything...


...or maybe I will carry just a chip inside my head, and just by thinking I shall be able to summon up purchases, words, addresses, music and knowledge. My front door will open as I see it - as a sensor latches on and recognises my retina. I will walk just for exercise and travel will be an unnecessary luxury. Because by then we will be living communally, utterly inside each others' heads. There will an incessant noise of chatter and music - and people will pay for quiet and the chance to be alone and think.

Sometimes when I look at people talking on their mobiles as they walk along the street it seems to me that we are halfway there already. Some of us have stopped living in the place where we happen to be, but are constantly yearning to be somewhere else, next to some other person that is never the one beside us.