There’s nothing like a cute accessory for your outfit, or for your bag. I, for one, am a sucker for them. They’re the things that set our sometimes very similar-looking bags apart from one another — in whatever fashion we choose to do so. Perhaps the eyes are windows into the soul, but I see these little trinkets as an equal look into one’s unique personality.
Jellycat
These cute little plushies are probably the best way a company could make money, like, ever. Like many others, I grew up with core stuffed animals, and one happened to be a Jellycat bunny blanket. If not for their objectively adorable appearance, I appreciate the sentimental value a Jellycat keychain can bring to one’s backpack. They are soft, pillowy as clouds, and their little legs swing when they bounce against your backpack. Are they cute enough to cause someone to commit a federal crime? Apparently so. Just under a month ago, I heard horror stories of people’s Jellycat charms being kidnapped from their backpacks. I personally haven’t heard anything of the sort happening at Bishop’s, but if you choose to buy one of these, protect your new children at all costs. As for me, expect an impulsive online purchase of five Jellycat charms at 3 a.m. on a random Thursday night. These little cuties have a profound influence on me, even as a fully-grown adult (which I can’t believe I am).
Labubu
Now WAIT — wait. Before you roll your eyes, I used to be a Labubu hater, despite the “Labubu” TikTok sound being my go-to phrase for a solid two months. I thought these monsters were hideous and creepy. Fangs so great in number you could see them poking out under a devious smile, painted toenails — more like claws — ready to pounce, and colorful, narrowed eyes that stare at you dead on, in the eyes. Do I feel slightly targeted at the sight of a Labubu doll? Perhaps. Plus, the $40 per doll price tag felt a little unnecessary for something so monstrous. However, on Sunday, I was given a Labubu from a student I tutor, who said it reminded him of me and my facial expressions. I suppose I’m going to have to say they’re cute now, because I am a new Labubu mother… and I’m not sure how to feel about me supposedly resembling one either.
CPR Face Shield
You either watch too much Grey’s Anatomy, or you’re the “mom” friend, or you just graduated from Health class. I’ll hand it to you — you’re very well-prepared in the case of an emergency, and I’m glad to be able to put my trust in someone who was certified in CPR, who knows how many years ago. Seriously, it’s an important tool to have on hand. Now, say the packaging came in… baby pink? Pastel blue? Any other color? If I ever needed a peer to perform CPR on me and I was revived from the ether, I might just have another heart attack at the shield’s pouch and its putrid shade of vermillion — probably covered in dust and dirt from all the years it’s been sitting there. Perhaps a more sterile design, something resembling a compact of some kind, would help. You could even decorate it with personalized stickers and save the day in style!
AirTag
I admire your practicality, because personally, I don’t have much of it. We’re all over here carrying our favorite stuffed animals to school with us like it’s Blessing of the Animals every day, and here you are carrying a freaking tracking device. But if you have one of these, I’d wager you leave everything just about everywhere — jackets, bottles, notebooks, glasses, phones, anything that you can set down. I’d hope you remember what your own backpack looks like, though. And if you need a tracker to fish it out of the pile of bags outside the gym during all-school assemblies, go ahead. I’ve seen too many people picking up someone else’s backpack. What I appreciate most about the AirTag is how compact it is. You don’t have to hang it outside your backpack for it to work. You can forget it’s there, and when you lose your backpack, it will remind you it exists — and that you really need to be less careless with your things.
That’s all for now. I can’t believe I only have a few of these left!
