We build what we sell ⠀
That means we spend quality time with every single piece ⠀
We know our bags ⠀
Often we still remember who carries what ⠀
We recognize them on the street ⠀
We know whose bag was stolen ⠀
One at a gas station off Kirby (so much loved her husband had us make her a new one as a surprise) ⠀
One from a parked car near the Menil (that leather was one-of-a-kind, we searched for a year to find something similar) ⠀
Three in San Antonio (a sticky-finger mystery remaining unsolved) ⠀
I think of those bags ⠀
We are intimately familiar with each scar, every stitch ⠀
Like an old friend ⠀
They were distinctive ⠀
I look for them on the street, on someone else's shoulder ⠀
Like one would a missing person ⠀
I occasionally wonder if they were cast out of a car window speeding away from the scene ⠀
I hope someone who needs it found it, is using it ⠀
It sounds dramatic but this is our art
It has our DNA on it
In it