A deep dive into tote bags

Newspapers are so depressing I don’t know why we have one delivered every day. I flip through the actual news pages, reading a headline here and a paragraph there until I land with relief on the so-called lifestyle pages. Those articles I read with great interest. You know, the ones that tell you how to start the day on a positive note (which usually recommend things like expressing gratitude and making your bed, but rarely devouring the latest news), whether you have irreparably damaged your children by shouting at them before breakfast, or how to keep your relationship alive by eating more spinach, although I might be confusing the last one with the articles on upping your iron content.

In fact, I’ve read so many of these pieces that I feel I could write most of them myself. However, I came across an item recently that completely surprised me – it appears that tote bags sold by Daunt Books, the London-based bookseller, have become a fashion icon, seen on the arms of celebrities across the world. Surely not – a canvas tote bag?

I bet I have one of those, I thought to myself. And there it was, in the teetering pile of shopping bags, a rather nice burgundy specimen with the words ‘Daunt Books’ in an elegant font above a line drawing of the iconic shop on Marylebone High Street. I hadn’t realised that these bags are made by a social enterprise that improves the lives of women and farmers in rural India. I didn’t know, but now I see that it’s not just stylish, but also a great opportunity for virtue signalling.

As I was trawling through my bag mountain, it struck me that your shopping bags probably reveal as much about you as your book collection or favourite playlists. I have one from the Chelsea Flower Show, one from the Hay Literary Festival and one from Waitrose, that rather select supermarket. The bag I particularly like has an image of an old Canadian 2_^₵ stamp with a polar bear on it. Just having reusable shopping bags makes a statement (I’m so environmental), but call them tote bags instead and you’ve reached another level.

Then there are bags that make an explicit political statement. I remember Anya Hindmarch’s canvas tote with the words I’m not a plastic bag  written on the front. It caused a sensation back in 2007. You don’t see so many slogans on bags any more, but I did enjoy one I saw recently that said I’ll unpack this in therapy later.

My collection might seem impressive at first glance, but I also have lots of less showy-offy specimens from more modest supermarkets, which could never aspire to being tote bags. The German discount chain Lidl certainly features, among others. All of a sudden I’m feeling the need to make a statement, so I’m going to attach a large label over my Lidl bag stating This is not from Daunt Books. Although I think that might reveal more about me than I’d like.