Today I mailed a Fagunwa bag to a client and friend. I got quite moved as I sealed the envelope in the post office and placed it in the revolving glass box which I pushed gently so the post office guy could take the bag and place it in the ‘International’ bin. Off to Paris. City of love and light. And of Minku bags, two, or three.
When I mail off the bags, I am happy they would have a life and a chance to be worn. A cathedral wants to be prayed in, a classroom wants to be taught in, a bag wants to be worn. But saying goodbye is so hard.
For today’s bag, the Fagunwa Pink Prune bag, the memory of the day I brought the leather to the atelier is quite vivid. I’d seen it rolled up pretty in all its pink glory at the tanner’s and my hands had developed a life of their own, picking it up and vowing not to let it go. Price won’t be a barrier, no, and the fact that there was only one added to the resolve. One roll of soft shiny pink leather that would be mine, mine, mine.
Then the memory of when I’d achieved the perfect combination. Sometimes leather waits quite a while in the atelier until I bring home something — another piece of leather or fabric — that would complement it obviously, in my head at least. At this time, I was on a Fagunwa bag roll, a heady period of combining two leathers and one fabric, then cutting and sewing them into the Fagunwa style, on repeat. Pink Prune, Oriental Red, Blue Drops, Black and Gold, the Bridal, Mustard Dreams, Cream Royale, Grey Shimmers, the Holiday bag, which came in large and small, large pictured below on Laura in Dubai, Green apple, pictured on JS in Norway below, the Erica and the Sue which followed later. It was art without a paintbrush – this colour here, that there, creating a harmony of blues and purples, of reds, of greens — and sometimes, a clash of elements that somehow worked, like with the Holiday bags or the Pink Prune.
Now they are finding their homes and I am happy but just a bit nostalgic as I send them off to their destinations. Are all artists/designers who make their own objects, one of each kind, the same? Is it for others as it is for me, the artisan equivalent of sending an offspring off to boarding school?
View more Fagunwa bags in the Minku e-store.