'A handbag?!'

It struck me this morning as I swapped handbags that the detritus collecting at the bottom of said item can come to represent the enormous colour and variety (or clutter - on a bad day) of one's life. As I sifted through the rubbish to pull out only the items I really and truly needed to survive the day (phone; oyster card, purse, make-up), I found the usual sweet wrappers, bus tickets, receipts, pens and tampax 'bon bons' but also smiled to find: several pink hair clips (not mine), some Mr Men books (not mine), a small, red toy locomotive (not mine) and a surprising number and variety of chocolates (OK, maybe some of them mine).