I’VE ALREADY ESTABLISHED my feelings towards trends, in that I am a sucker for them.

The late 2000s and the dawning of the next decade meant we were met with an influx of fashion “moments” that would leave us feeling regretful in years to come, as we looked to dutiful ignore our “memories from 2010″ on Facebook. For me, I was coming in to the tail-end of secondary school, and still trying to establish my own personal style (beyond robbing my sister’s clothes did not fit me).

You see, my older sister was my style compass, for the most part. If she had something, I would fawn after it (or failing that, take it without her permission). This was particularly true in the case of handbags. While my sister successfully curated an enviable collection, I did not, because I was (and still am) scabby. Why would I siphon away money I could spend on cans when my sister had 45,000 bags at home?

Then, a bag darkened our door that I just could not get on board with – a Paul’s Boutique monstrosity.

On paper, it should have been everything I love – pink, kitschy, patterned and patent. And yet, it left my cold – next to her burgeoning collection of Guess bags, it just looked garish.

Their population grew beyond my family, to the point where they very much became A Thing. Everyone seemed to have a bag from the line, or perhaps a wallet, if they weren’t quite ready to commit to total patchwork insanity.

A Smyth’s-wroth of Polly Pocket charms on the zip there. Practical.

As much as Juicy tracksuits defined fashion for hyper-femme teenage girls, Paul’s Boutique did the same for the late bloomers of the decade, in a different way. But … How? When they were so bloody expensive? €120? Really?!

Anyway, they’re going for about €11 upwards on eBay if you have a LateNoughties-themed fancy dress party coming up.

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