Joyce O'Connor

My "Lily" bag travels on my arm through the streets of New York City; it warms my lap in the subway and flirts with strangers in a cafe. I was visiting a friend who works in Barney's the other day, and woman after woman (and a few men) stopped me to ask about my "Lily." "Where did you get that bag?" they asked, "How do I get one?" "Sorry," I replied, "this is one-of-a-kind. It is not a department store thing. This is a work of art by a warm-hearted, statuesque red-head." When their eager faces became blank, I patted their arms and said, "You have to be in the know." After all, although their mouths may water, not every woman gets to taste a "Savery."

Her bag's name is Lily