Backpacks Are Back
Actual backpacks. Not human backpacks.
I was an idiot in high school for a variety of reasons, the number one being that I didn’t appreciate my backpack’s worth. Halfway into freshman year I dismissed my faithful Jansport — navy canvas with a suede bottom, all covered in band names that I’d written in Wite-Out — and swapped it for various purses. The goal was to look more grown up and fashionable , but the result was me constantly dropping shit because I had to carry the books that didn’t fit. Still, once you ditch the pack you can’t really go back…that is, until I saw Leandra’s husband in a red one.
How could I have been so blind to the beauty of a backpack? They’re symmetrical, minimalistic, unfussy but not “mass” enough to be considered in the core of norm. Wearing one is like having a utilitarian koala bear hugging your shoulders with even weight distribution. The only thing more convenient than that is if said bear understood human language and could hand you whatever you needed as though you were a doctor/nurse team in the operating room.
Koala bear hands over the pencil and then repeats what you just said: “Pencil.”
Koala bear hands you the notebook and then says, “Notebook.”
Koala bear leans in and tickles your armpit because they really have the best sense of humor out of all bears.
A backpack will not tickle your armpit on purpose, but it sure as hell beats developing a pimp-walk due to nerve damage on the right side of your body from a bag that weighs more than a fishing boat.
What a backpack will do is make your weekends feel more happy-go-lucky. And it will make your subway rides to work easier, and your commutes homes less cumbersome. It will make trips to the gym feel somehow more athletic — (does anyone else feel douchey showing up to the gym with a purse, or is that just me? Or is that “just me” because I don’t technically have a gym membership so therefore I have to jump over the fence in the back and sneak in through the laundry room?) — and, if for nothing else, it will make you feel like a kid again.
But it won’t make you look like one. Say you’re on your way to the office, or a dinner, or a any non-formal event where you have stuff to carry, need to look nice but want to go hands-free:
Or, maybe it’s a Saturday and you’re meeting a friend for an iced coffee and want to be weighed down by nothing other than the sunshine:
Choose your own adventure here. Go wild, ditch the purse. And if you still aren’t sold then may I just remind you that no Jedi got where he or she is today being burdened by an oversized clutch. Backpacks are the future — the koala bears of fashion.