The Anatomy of a Toteducken
Louis Vuitton-ified Thanksgiving dinner + the secondhand items I'm dreaming about right now
You’ve cooked up a Toteducken too, whether you know it or not.
“Toteducken” is what I’ve dubbed the thing we all do with our totes — stuff them mercilessly inside one another, not unlike the Turducken, a (somewhat horrifying) Thanksgiving main dish ostensibly invented for the small crossover of people between kitchen overachievers and the morbidly curious.
Inside, the chicken: a small reusable tote crumpled into a ball, maybe stuffed inside an even smaller tote carrying bag. The next layer, the duck: a medium-sized tote, probably linen or cotton, malleable enough to fold in on itself. On the outside, the turkey: a larger or more structured bag, something more presentable, most likely, that goes better with the outfit or feels work appropriate.
It’s a necessity of the modern woman who has places to be and things to carry. It’s especially a necessity in New York City, where you’ve given up your home on wheels (car) for a home on shoulder (tote bag), forced to schlep your life between train stations and 5th-floor walk-ups with only what you can carry on your back.
At any moment, you must be prepared to acquire more items: groceries; a pharmacy stock-up on Tylenol and pimple patches; an impulse sartorial purchase (you can’t say no when you find the perfect pair of jeans out of the blue); or a Yerba Mate, some gummy worms, and a bag of kettle chips on the way home.
“Do you want a bag?” your bodega guy naively asks. “No, thank you” you say proudly, “I’ve already got one.” And you beam upward with a smile like Superman, having just saved another sea turtle’s life.
Toteducken pairings to consider:
The Manhattanite
New Yorker tote + Louis Vuitton Monogram Neverfull
(you have at least two laptops and only sparkling water in your fridge)
The Gen Zer
Baggu reusable tote + a vintage Coach number
(you love sustainability but not enough to only have one Baggu)
The New England Princess
L.L.Bean baby boat and tote + L.L.Bean mama boat and tote
(you get all your produce from local farms and I’m jealous of your close proximity to the Union Square Greenmarket)
The Lucy
Merci Paris shopping bag + Chloé leather tote
(you identified heavily with Dakota Johnson’s character in Materialists and might have an addiction to The Real Real)
The Brooklyn Heights Mom
Salter House tote + TOAST cotton tote
(you also have an incredibly chic diaper bag with more totes inside, no number of totes is too many)
For me, I’m very much a bunched up Baggu stuffed in my vintage leather purse gal (that one was personal), and my New Yorker totes are riddled with holes from getting so much wear in college. What’s your everyday Toteducken?
For paid subscribers, a smörgåsbord of secondhand items I’m dreaming about that are either not in my size, not in my current budget, or make zero sense for my wardrobe at the moment. But they’re far too good to get lost in the ether!
So I hand them to you on a digital silver platter, praying they might be the exact pieces you’re looking for — one woman’s “these are too small for me!” is another’s “this grail item was such a steal!”
Oscar de la Renta Witchy Leather Boxing Boots, size 39, $147 on TRR
