Conversational dynamite

Looking for a conversational gambit to put a rocket up a dying dinner party or dreary car trip? I have two words for you: man bag.

Contentious, much?

See, you’re already lining up your opinions, rallying your arguments and frog marching your supporting examples towards the spot right between my eyes, aren’t you? Whether you’re pro or ‘not unless hell freezes over’, chances are you’re not anywhere near the fence. For some reason, the man purse turns even the most mild mannered person into a green, bulging, shirt-shredded, red-eyed menace.

I’ll be up front. I like a man with a murse. These accessories are practical, stylish and demonstrate the unwavering security a fellow has in his own masculinity. This is sexy.

Besides, with all the gadgets everyone carts around each day, it's only fair that men have the same options as women have. Equality. See? How else are you meant to transport your phone, laptop, wallet, emergency hair product, cigars, hardcore porn, Samurai sword and other masculine items to and from your home?

(And you can forget putting them in your mum’s/sister’s/girlfriend’s handbag – do you know how much this pisses her off?)

Hark? Is that the lame chorus of ‘backpack’, I hear?

I have one primary objection to the backpack solution: style (or total lack thereof). A clean, brand name backpack is fine for the gym. It is not cool for the cocktail bar. Further, a backpack in any business context is not so much a bag as a public declaration of your utter fashion ineptitude.

And as for using a briefcase as a carryall - what are you? My dad?

Did someone really say ‘bum bag’? Just go crawl back under your abalone shell ashtray, will you?

Man bags are hip. They are happening. They are now.

So, if a guy you know turns up for a lunch date or meeting carrying a satchel, a messenger bag or even an over-sized leather wallet with a shoulder strap, you can leave the gay gags packed up and the snide ‘girl’ asides under wraps. Some of us think he’s got sex appeal. And he’s certainly got his act (and his iPod, keys and shades) together.

Hell, fellas, maybe one day soon, you’ll stop being a scaredy sheep and get one, too.