Adventures of a 16 Year Old Girl: Episode one

In many families adolescence is reached when the girl first gets her period, or gets her first cellphone, or is given permission to go out with friends without an alert parent tagging along. In my household, we become women when we get our first handbag. Don't worry, this isn't some tradition. I just noticed this little unplanned occurrence for a while now.
Don't get me wrong either, this handbag purchase is serious business. My sisters and I tend to be a little picky. After all, my oldest cousin once told me that like men are judged by the shoes they wear,  women represent their personality with the bag they carry.
I don't know if I fully believe this, but my parents have come to a conclusion that I'm ready to carry my own bag now. Old enough to keep all my belongings – the Chap stick, my iPod, my self-confidence and courage, the phone, my hesitating voice and the little poetry book, with me.
We have been looking for the right handbag for me for quite some time now, but nothing seems to be it. Either too big, or too pink, not colourful enough, doesn't hold enough contents. My things are spilling over from back pockets, shirt pockets. I'm carrying my personality on my sleeve. I am representing myself with a big toothed smile and curious eyes.
Nothing to worry about, I'm still searching for the perfect fit.