FASHION AND ELEGANCE. Girls have an eternal problem. On the one hand, they always want a new bag.

They want different ones. On Monday, they want to carry a smart black one, on Tuesday, a brown one with fringes, on Wednesday, a pretty pink one with golden clasps, and so on

Right through to Sunday, when they suddenly want a white backpack, or no, better a canvas tote with the words All You Need Is Love, or even…

But there’s a problem! Every morning, they would have to transfer their entire world from the brown bag into the pink one, from the pink into the ‘Love’ one and so on.

One could go mad! You’ve only just arranged one universe the way you like it, and now you have to create a new one.

Even God needed six days for that; a girl has just fifteen minutes. No, better to stick with one bag where everything has found its place.

Only to foolish two-dimensional men does it seem that there is chaos in a girl’s handbag. It is not chaos. It is the highest order. The same applies to the glove compartment of a girl’s car, but that’s a topic for another time.

Yet cool girls possess a special kind of magic. They can expand the space of a handbag to any limits they require.

Once, in Florence, I bought my girlfriend a small clutch as a gift. I chose it for a long time. It was tiny, only a lipstick and a phone would fit inside.

I kept turning it over in my hands, worrying: what if she doesn’t like it? I asked the saleswoman for advice and explained that my girlfriend was gentle and romantic. So, I bought the clutch. My girlfriend was delighted and covered me with kisses.

She smiled: ‘Bene! Perfetto! Take this one. Don’t hesitate!’

One day we went to the theatre together. She carried her new clutch, looking very pleased.

In the middle of the performance, I needed a cloth to clean my glasses. I don’t carry handkerchiefs with me. What was I to do, wipe them on the edge of my jacket?

My girlfriend reached into the clutch and handed me a pack of paper tissues. I thought: how on earth did that thick pack fit in there?

Then I felt thirsty. She pulled a bottle of water out of the same clutch. By that point I had completely forgotten about the play.

I was fascinated by something else: how?! How did all this fit into such a minuscule space that was supposedly meant only for an iPhone and a lipstick?

I’m convinced that if I had suddenly wanted a hot pastry, she would have pulled out not only the pastry but also a microwave to heat it up.

A woman’s handbag is pure magic tricks. It defies the laws of physics. It is a miracle.

While physicists and astronomers are busy studying black holes, right under their noses lies the greatest mystery of the universe, a woman’s handbag.

They would do better to step away from their telescopes and ask their wives how they manage to create a ‘black hole’ inside an ordinary bag.

That is the real mystery. That is where all the Nobel laureates should be sent, along with Stephen King for good measure. Though even they, poor souls, would never solve it. Alexey Belyakov.

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