From Our Moscow Bureau

Today I want to address a very troubling problem for me that has engrossed the male population here in Moscow. No, I'm not talking about alcoholism. Nor am I talking about the overwhelming popularity of the mullet. No. Today I want to address a very sad display of masculinity that I cannot leave my house without seeing. This is something that causes me to bow my head in shame and utter disbelief. I'm referring, of course, to "the man bag".
Usually the man has the purse slung over his shoulder and is strutting down the street. If you're in a better part of town you might get to see the men who have accessorized. They'll most always have the matching shoes, but sometimes they will even have a matching belt. I won't even get started on how gay the shoes look, but they accentuate the problem when they sling that purse over their shoulder.

Don't get me wrong. Sometimes I'm forced to carry more than I can fit in my pockets (a laptop, a couple of books, ipod, sunglasses, vanity mirror). In that case I'll be sporting a backpack. And the odds of that backpack matching my shoes or belt are slim and none.

The part I don't get is this. The bags are usually the size of a small to medium size binocular case. This means that the guy is either carrying a pair of sunglasses and a wallet in his purse, or he's got a small handgun that won't fit in his pocket. Regardless, my way of thinking is that if it won't fit in my pocket, then it's going in my backpack.

My favorite thing to see is a man and his girl walking side by side, purses swinging. I can't help but stare in disbelief. I would love to make a snide comment to every man that I see sporting his Prada or Gucci European Carry-all (thank you Jerry Seinfeld), but my fear is that one of three things might happen. 1. He'll start slinging his purse at me. Although most of the purses aren't big enough to do much damage. 2. He'll pull a hand gun out of his Louis Vuitton hand purse and bust a cap in me. Or 3. His girlfriend will chase me down and beat me up. Number 3 is likely the case, so I usually just look at him, shake my head, and if I'm smooth enough, I'll get my camera out and snap a couple of photos while he's not looking.