I have come to the conclusion that most knitted purses sag. They droop. They become lanky in hours. Or minutes if your wallet is full of yarn receipts, four special-deal grocery cards, a credit card or two, medical cards (some outdated) and about a dollar's worth of change.
Anyway, knitted purses droop. Droop droop drippity droop. They droop.
Sure, you can reinforce them within an inch of their lives, like I did with Via Diagonale--which worked out great. For the most part, though, unless you become a droop inspector freakazoid while knitting the thing, it's gonna droop.
Kind of like all of us. We're all gonna droop. Eventually.
So it is my solemn swear to not let this new one droop. I will not turn my head, look up or lose my concentration. I will be the purse engineer extraordinaire. The female version of that guy on TV. Was it MacGyver that made all those nifty things out of nothing and got himself out of all sorts of pickles? Or was it that guy with the wonky eye and the raincoat and the cigar?
But a gal has to love a knitted purse. Unless it's super fussy, it'll be done in a snap. And, you don't have to follow patterns with lots of numbers. They come in one size, fits all.
But the sagging thing. Uff. I made my sister a bag last summer and being the good sister, she put it to use. Next time I saw her, the thing was sagging down to her knees. Talk about horrific.
I made myself the same one, too. Here it is, after about a half day of use. With only a few lipsticks, a pen or two, ID and a credit card, some gum and my car keys. (The wallet had to stay home for fear it would stretch the purse into some sort of medieval looking weapon.)
But sag it did.