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She thought about her broken car. She thought about her cramped office cubicle. Then she looked back at the mirror.

The process was a blur of ritual. The swiping of the card, the wrapping of the bag in a soft sleeping bag of white dust-cloth, and finally, placing it inside the massive, thick-paper shopping bag with the black cord handles. buy prada handbags

Clara blinked, turning to see a woman with silver hair and a tailored blazer appearing at her side. Her smile was polite, practiced, and entirely devoid of judgment. "It's striking," Clara said, her voice sounding small. She thought about her broken car

"Brushed leather," the woman said, slipping on a pair of white cotton gloves before lifting the bag from its pedestal. She held it out. "It has structure. It holds its shape, no matter what you put inside." The process was a blur of ritual