There’s something about backpacks. The minute you don one, suddenly you’re seven years old and invincible again, and nothing else matters except running along holding both straps, arms and shoulders completely carefree. Backpacks are for the free spirits, the type of gal who wants to run and jump and skip without a handbag flinging back and forth into her ribs and hindering all movement and fun. So, my search began, and the desire to skip without the restrictions of a shoulder bag grew ever stronger.
I’d been on the hunt for a tiny perfect backpack for a good few weeks, seeing dozens of très chic girls bobbing about with little black jetpacks of joy hanging perfectly imperfectly off their back. I’d tried Topshop, River Island, Primark, and even Asda and Tesco could offer me no joy this time. So I told myself I’d wait until the Spring when they were bound to be everywhere, and I gave up my search.
Eventually, that well known saviour ASOS came through, and I found the teeniest, greyiest and most perfect Fiorelli backpack, and it was everything I’d been waiting for. I wear this bag of joy every day, with every outfit, for every occasion. Honestly, truly, the best thing I’ve bagged all year.