Be careful what you wish for was all I could hear in my head when I finally packed up to head home from my trip. There was no way I could fit that huge orange box in any of my luggage. How would I fit it in the overhead cabin or at my feet? Worse, would it even fit through the security scanner?
I’d considered shipping the empty box home myself after the H boutique told me that they’d charge $300 to do that for me. But the post office was already closed and I had no time to get to a FedEx. So anxieties kicked into high gear the night before my departure. Plan A was to hope for a miracle that everything would fit, and plan B was ditching the box at security check and just carrying the bag in its dust bag. Bringing baby home was beginning to be a nightmare I hadn’t anticipated.
Luckily–and I’m really starting to think the universe totally conspired to have this adoption go as smoothly as possible–there were no issues at the airport or on the plane. The box in bag fit nicely in front of me even when the seat was in full horizontal mode:
The flight attendant who helped me asked to take a peek inside my box. I thought she was just joking until she confirmed, while refilling my Mimosa, that she already had an audience for the reveal when the time was right! So once meal service was done
and the lights were dimmed, they asked if I didn’t mind doing a show-and-tell in the front galley. They had covered the counter with fresh linen for my box after I told them the area had to be completely dry. Was this for real? And why was I, OCD freak, even doing this! Note to self: no more alcohol on long flights.
There were five flight attendants surrounding me, all abuzz with excitement and lots of questions. Two took out their cameras and one used my phone to take photos. One gal said this might be her only chance to see a Birkin in person so she wanted to remember what it looked like. You would think the Birkin was some kind of celebrity! One gal who was a self-professed purseaholic even asked if I wanted to show them the other bags I had in my carry-on case as well. It was madness but oh so much fun. If a purse could single-handedly bring this much joy to six women, even for just 30 minutes, then it was worth all the stress from the night before. I was just grateful to have had a chance to break up a very long flight by chitchatting about fashion!
Doesn’t the bag look huge from this angle?!? Anyway, when I got back to my seat, the older gentleman sitting across from me asked if he could touch the purse. He said he had seen the buzz and faked going to the restroom just to take a peek at what we were doing!
That was the most fun I’ve had on a plane post 9/11.
So I made it home in one piece; the shopping bag didn’t fare as well (note 2 to self: always ask for a spare shopping bag if you are traveling with goodies) but the baby and box were no worse for the wear.
C’mon baby number 2. I’m ready for ya :D.
I love that shot of you at the check-in line. You simply in black, a ginormous vibrant orange H shopping bag in one hand, a Missoni trolley in a fabulously complementary colourway in tow in the other hand. That image will forever be ingrained in my memory 🙂 The dream lives on, so happy for you!
See what I mean – strangers come and and talk to us because of the bags we carry!
Congrats on your first H bag! Have read so much bout your journey to getting the first one, now let us see the 2nd! 😉
Appears that H has already provided you with lots of happiness! Bring on baby #2!!!!