Does your heroine carry a handbag? Of course she does.
But is her handbag a satchel or a backpack? In the current rash of "chick lit" I've noticed that instead of descriptions, authors just toss in a handful of designer names as if those famous names are sufficient replacement for a full description using adjectives.
Naming a specific design or designer of an article can help the story move forward because a specific dress designer will help establish both the time of the story and the income level of the heroine.
But don't think that just the naming the designer will do the job.
Take the heroine's purse.
Well, don't take it; let's use a handbag, ubiquitous and common, as an example.
The lazy writer will name the designer, Gucci, and call it a day.
"She picked up her Gucci and dashed out the door.
" The author assumes that you, the reader, will visualize the correct bag.
And since most readers are too embarrassed to admit that they don't really know what a Gucci bag looks like, the author gets away with this.
Now, a Gucci bag has some value, it may indicate that our heroine with her Gucci is intrinsically different than the kind of girl who carries a Chanel or is devoted to Versace, or the kind of woman who only carries her scared beloved Dooney and Bourke, but just those names do not convey the whole story or metaphor.
Is the heroine carting about the genuine article? Does the fact that she is carting around the genuine article indicate that she has too much discretionary income or too little common sense? Did she spend her grocery money on a real designer bag to impress someone? Was the reader supposed to be impressed? And those designer name don't indicate just one thing, is this classic Kelly bag? Or a version covered in chains, buckles and logos? Okay, Okay, the Gucci is from the spring collection, it has no logos on the cobalt blue surface and anyone who is anyone will know that it cost $1,500 retail.
Now, what's inside? Does the heroine cart around a bag filled with emergency supplies? And what does she consider emergency supplies? Band-aids? A tiny airline bottle of Vodka? String? Harmonica? Will any of this come in handy later in the story (if often does)? Or does the heroine carry a tiny clutch, thus depending on the kindness of strangers when she must blow her nose? And how will that propensity propel the plot? Different bags reflect different women.
You know that, and your reader knows that.
I'm not advocating digressing into a long discourse on handbags, nor do I suggest your heroine only carry the recyclable bags from Trader Joe's because that would engender a raft of new questions.
Use the bag as a metaphor, and at the same time, help the reader learn more about this rarefied world of designer stuff.
Give a sentence or two more than just the designer name.
Give your reader some help.
Be kind.
Your reader will thank you.
And there is nothing better for writers than a grateful audience.