These past few months I was transported back to the 1990s. I relocated to my childhood home in New England to help care for my parents (and one of my own children, who survived mostly on Cartoon Network and Pepperidge Farm Nantucket cookies). Though some familiar hallmarks remained (the small beaches of childhood upon Long Island Sound, the quaint market down the road for the lunch run, my parents telling me to load the dishwasher THEIR way), taking charge of their care and household was distinctly different.

I realize now that I had not been home for such a long stretch since prior to graduation in 1994. It was a different kind of summer break to be sure with the roles noticeably reversed, and I worked harder than I ever have (and I used to work three summer jobs to rack up as much fun money as I could for the school year ahead). I now compare all I juggled and organized and executed over those weeks to movie production - so many moving parts all day and night – and I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

I tell you, if I hadn’t had this secondhand, perfectly sized, summer appropriate linen fanny pack (aka ‘belt bag’ circa 2018) I would not have made it through. Gleaned from beloved Los Angeles consignment shop Ampersand on Beverly Boulevard, it was what allowed me to get calls from doctors and handymen while running endless errands (instead of waiting around the house for the landline phone to ring), keep in touch with the half of my family that stayed behind in LA as well as clients, coordinate with siblings, listen to many audiobooks and count steps on the long walks I made sure to take every single day LEST I GO INSANE, and do it all handsfree.

In the 90s I smoked, so wore a mini-backpack to be hands free. Having kids in the aughts made me a diehard cross-body handbag wearer. Since the pandemic – it’s been all about the fanny pack. In LA, it carries just enough for the streamlined life of walking the dog around the block and counting steps around the house (yes, the iPhone is ever-present. It’s been a Godsend in this time, I admit). Back east, it was armor, on me except for when I slept, and close by even then. I would wake up at all hours, put on my glasses, grab my phone and strap on the fanny pack in preparation of handling the business (and BUSY-ness) of the day. It was my thoroughly reliable sidekick.

Yes, the fanny pack has many detractors (my dad included – he kept thinking it was my belly sticking out – ha!) and as with my other fashion choices, I say – then don’t wear one. For my part, Fanny (as I’m now calling her) and I are literally and figuratively joined at the hip. Given all I accomplished with her strapped to me back east this summer, I feel ready to attack the world wherever I go now, handsfree. Fanny and I are in it together for the long haul (pun intended).