Handbags – as crucial as glad rags

As a little girl, you have a pencil case. It is a source of unalloyed pride and joy. And then you become a bigger girl and you have a handbag, and this more often delivers status and separation anxiety.

Status because the choice of bag speaks volumes about our finances, and some women care about this. And separation because it would be a disaster if the bag went missing. We need everything in there.

We may need fewer things in our handbags than we used to need. The iPhone can perform the wallet, the camera, the diary, the address book, the reading matter and the mirror functions. But we still need to carry make-up and keys at the very least, and often intimate hygiene requisites and vapes or cigarettes.

So we have to keep wondering where our handbag is, as well as whether it is an appropriate bag – and not one that will finish off your social ambitions at a stroke.

That’s what happened with the ‘ludicrously capacious’ Burberry bag carried by cousin Greg’s potential girlfriend, Bridget (pictured), in Succession. It was so badly judged that it was enough to damn the girl outright as an unsuitable addition to the family.

It’s much more elegant to be seen carrying the minimum of stuff. Zara Tindall was one of many at the Coronation carrying the minuscule Strathberry clutch (£550 from Saks Fifth Avenue), which comes in a variety of colourways and has a chain so you can use it as a crossover bag so it’s hands-free.

The trouble is that many partygoers need a capacious bag. We need one to carry a change of shoes, for one thing. Anyone who makes the mistake of wearing painfully high shoes to a party, without taking a change of shoes, does it only the once. As soon as you are out of sight of the party zone, you make the switch into ballet pumps or other flatties for the journey home.

If we are not able to drive, we need to carry gym kit, laptops, chargers, toothbrush and -paste, cleansing cream and pads, to say nothing of sun cream and sunglasses. Large, roomy bags are also ecologically friendly – you can put groceries in there without having to use a plastic bag.

But how can we avoid looking like bagwomen?

The 1960s It Girl heiress Suna Portman was the first girl to carry a basket rather than a handbag. It was more casual and showed she was unstuffy. Baskets made from sisal or beautifully-woven, recycled plastic from Nairobi rubbish dumps have been popular.

But now statement – or bankstatement – capacious handbags have made a comeback. Women know how much some of these bags cost – the new Mulberry costs £1,500, the price of an entry-level statement bag.

Who would flaunt something that costs more than the average person spends on their electricity bill for a whole year? The subliminal message is that either they or their husband must be successful and therefore worth doing business with.

You can lay down a limited-edition handbag, like wine in a cellar. Twenty years later, it will have matured into something worth substantially more than you originally paid for it.

There is no such thing as the perfect handbag. It needs to be lightweight yet not flop over limply. It can’t be leather because leather is heavy and can’t be washed. The best bag I have ever had was my father’s top-hat box made of super-elegant, reinforced leather. It allowed me to carry all the impedimenta I needed, and best of all it could double as a seat.

There is another option. Friends of mine went to a party given by a superrich host in a rented architectural folly. They were amazed that it had been so badly organised that there was no cloakroom or anywhere to leave their bags and coats.

As they stood outside smoking, they realised why. Most of the other guests swept up in limos and stalked into the party carrying only a mobile phone. They left everything else in the limo – to be summoned back by mobile when the partygoer had had enough.

The ultimate accessory – the car that doubles as a handbag.