It is made of organic, recycled, fair trade jute.
It was crafted by women who had formerly been trafficked for sex work, employed by a company which offers these women decently-paid work and support to rebuild their lives.
It probably gives the world's oppressed and downtrodden a foot rub.
On the day of its delivery, I unwrapped it with glee; I admired its construction and aesthetics; I gloried in the fact that it is big enough to fit a book, my lunch, and a medium-sized knitting project, without being heavy enough to trigger my recurrent back problems. I luxuriated in the unimaginable smugness that comes from buying The Most Ethical Bag On The Planet.
But when I opened it up, my heart sank: there is no pocket for keys, fags and lipbalm; worse, no pocket for one's essential-in-this-modern-age suckable-digital-thumb, the smart phone.
At which point I was sent a link to 27 Middle Class Problems.
FUCK YOU SOMETIMES I DO HAVE DIFFICULTY RECONCILING MY LOVE OF HIP HOP WITH MY COMMITMENT TO FEMINISM.
Yep. I am living the stereotype dream. I'm off to weave my own free-range yoghurt.