Have Luggage, Will Travel.

One of the big gifts I got for Christmas this year was a new set of luggage. My old luggage was still adequate; it held the clothes, it zippered, it allowed itself to be thrown around an airplane. Seeing as it was a high school graduation gift (Class of '97, represent!) it was, well, a bit old. And more importantly, heavy. After all, luggage has come a long way in 13 years. In fact, the new options are endless. Aerodynamic designs, lighter frames, expandable zippers, wheels that spin 'round and 'round on a dime? All options for this 'new breed' of a suitcase.

When I mentioned to Santa Mom the fact that I'd like new luggage, she agreed. "But," she said, "You have to pick it out yourself. I don't want to guess at the types of features you want."

Fair enough. The great luggage search was on.

Mom and I hit several stores around Thanksgiving, getting an idea of prices and the bells and whistles involved. I visited department stores on my own throughout December, zipping and unzipping, lifting and rolling, all the while envisioning just how much I would be able to fit into a 23" bag. Really, I'd never thought about luggage more in my life. And I couldn't make up my mind. You see, I'm not sure if you've picked up on this, but I like pretty things. To me, aesthetics matter, design matters. Maybe that makes some people roll their eyes, but to me, when given the chance to choose something stylish, I do my best to see that quest through. If the world can be a prettier place, why shouldn't it be?

And therein was the issue with my luggage hunt. I'd find a gorgeous looking suitcase - a great color, a good size, and a fair price - only to open it up and hate the interior setup. Or, worse yet, I'd open a not-so-pretty suitcase on a whim, decide it had the best interior lay-out ever, but I just could not stomach the idea of carrying such an ugly bag around for years to come. Oh, I realize this all sounds a little ridiculous. As my Mom put it - after I weighed pros and cons over another bag, "It's just a suitcase! You put the clothes in, you go on your trip. Done."

A valid point. But once again, in my mind, it all comes back to style. One afternoon, shopping with Mom to scoop up some post-Christmas sales, we wandered in and out of a few luggage stores. I still hadn't found the bag I was looking for; even I was growing weary of the great luggage hunt.

But then, what to my wondering eyes should appear? A set of luggage so classic and chic, I couldn't turn away without going over for a peek. The plaid is what sold me of course, because who in this world doesn't embrace their inner Anglophile when given the chance? (Plaid=the rolling, pastoral countryside of the UK, obviously.)

After a run through of the interior and a quick check of the wheels, I finally, clearly, exclaimed: "Let's do it." To which my dear Mother replied: "Hallelujah. Let's buy them before you change your mind." And so these new, charming bags came home with me.

Of course, (because this is the way these things go) the very next day my Mother and I happened upon another set - a brilliant blue this time - of luggage that tugged at my heart strings just the tiniest bit. Still, even with the option of a return on the table, I knew I was wed to that plaid. And, I don't mind telling you, that when my bags came off the luggage carousel at Logan a few weeks ago? They were the finest looking ones in the bunch. Which made the whole search? Absolutely worth it. After all, I foresee many more years of travel in my future. I might as well have luggage that looks good while doing it.