Okay guys, let’s talk about this green Coach purse that’s basically become my shadow lately. It wasn’t love at first sight, honestly.
Spotted it tucked away in the corner of that dusty thrift shop downtown – you know, the one by the laundromat that always smells vaguely of old books. Looked rough. Bottle green leather, kinda dark, definitely vintage Coach style with the turnlock flap. But man, it was scuffed up. Scratches like bad acne across one side, and the brass hardware was dull, covered in this weird greenish gunk. Felt heavy too, like it had soaked up years of… whatever.
Thought about walking away. Seriously, who needs another project? But the shape… classic. Real sturdy stitching underneath all the grime. Kinda stupid, kinda charming. Price tag said twelve bucks. Grabbed it. Felt like taking a chance on an ugly duckling.
Got it home. First step: assessment. Emptied the pockets – found an old ticket stub and lint. So much lint. Then:
- Attacked the leather: Dabbed it with distilled white vinegar on a soft cloth. Gentle circles. Saw some of the darker stains lighten, almost like magic. Followed up with a tiny bit of plain, unscented saddle soap mixed with warm water. Wiped it down. No soaking!
- Fought the hardware: That green gunk? Toothpaste. No kidding. Smeared a little plain white paste onto an old toothbrush, scrubbed gently at the brass buckles and turnlock. Wiped away the paste mess, buffed with a dry cloth. Started shining through like buried treasure. Did the zipper pull too – sticky zipper got some lip balm rubbed along the teeth.
- Conditioned the beast: Let the whole thing dry overnight. Next day, used a leather conditioner I found in the garage – nothing fancy, just a basic lotion meant for boots. Worked a pea-sized amount into the leather with my fingers, rubbing it in like sunscreen. Let it absorb for hours. Watched the leather wake up, get supple, the green getting richer.
And get this… once it was cleaner and softer, I noticed it perfectly matched this dark green vintage wool coat I inherited from my Aunt Carol years ago. Dumb luck! Threw them both on one chilly morning – instant look. Felt put together without trying too hard.
But here’s the weird part. Using it reminded me of Aunt Carol herself. Tough, practical, a bit weathered like the purse was, but full of character. She taught me how to re-sew a button when I was ten. Carrying this purse feels like carrying a piece of that resilience.
Finding it was random. Cleaning it was messy, kinda therapeutic honestly. Using it? That’s where the secret clicked. It’s not just a bag, it’s a reminder. Built to last, gets better with age, tells a story. Like Aunt Carol. That bottle green hides the dirt but holds onto history. Vintage Coach? Yeah, it’s got serious secrets.
