The Lindsay Lopez Story


Lindsay Lopez was always lucky — except that one time she broke her ankle in dodgeball in 3rd Grade but, well — let’s just say she was usually really lucky, especially once she became majorly rich and famous. As a combined pop superstar and world famous actress she lived a charmed life. Everybody in the world knew who Lilo was (pronounced Lee-lo). It would be accurate to say Lilo was an ultrastar. 

Her hit duet with LL Cool J “All We Have” made the top of the US charts for 3 months running, and the remixes were still on the top of the charts in Europe and Asia one year later — thirty years later it would also be resurrected, exquisitely sampled and ironically enjoyed with some local craft beers by suspender-wearing hipsters in Brooklyn as well, but that’s another story. What we’re interested in here is the Lindsay Lopez story. 

Lilo’s life was great. One of the downsides of her life, however, was being told what to do. You would think that having enough money to build the world’s largest collection of small Benjamin Franklin portraits, a villa in Tuscany and two homes in the United States, plus a massive — but mega classy — yacht, would save you from being bossed around, but you would be wrong. The most common issue was power-tripping directors who wanted her to show more booty. 


If it wasn’t showing more booty, they wanted her to speak differently or give it more “passion,” gold digger boyfriends who broke her heart or stylists and “assistants” who made her feel like an asshole for telling them to shut up, life was not always easy. 


Her husband Arod was away playing baseball half the time and when he wasn’t away he was tired. Lilo was tired too, from long days on the set of Anaconda or her latest film Hustlers about strippers stealing money from rich clients.


 Lilo knew the world was a tough place,currently going through a major pandemic and teetering on the brink of a Great Depression version 2.0 but sometimes life was just too f*cking much. She had problems, too. 


What if she didn’t want to carry a gauche-looking Louis Vuitton bag that made her look like a botox Barbie from the suburbs? There was just no justice in the world!

Lindsay was tired of feeling like just another prop on the set, a pretty face to drape clothes and accessories on. She hated her bracelet, her earrings, her sponsored high heels, her branded smartphone case, everything down to her mascara. It all felt so fake and pretentious: couldn’t she be something more than a walking advertisement, a commodified consumer item? 

The director told her to do the shot again where she walked into her town library  — which apparently still existed — and act surprised when her ex-boyfriend jumped out from the bushes and said he wanted her back. She had a bag full of books she was supposedly returning. The scene wasn’t hard to do, considering Lilo had just had that experience last night outside a Denny’s in a bad part of LA, minus the reading part (she wasn’t a huge reader although she would never back down from her assertion that Curious George was epic). 


In any case, Lilo started the scene and screamed, jumping back as her blockhead fictional boyfriend launched into a pitch about how he missed more than just her body (did they really have to start stealing script lines from stupid Brad Bieber songs now?). RRRIP! Damn, her bag had ripped on the shrubs behind her outside the fake library. Some cheap, gaudy set piece. Lindsay sighed in frustration.


Then fictional boyfriend magically transformed into real boyfriend, well actually that happened two weeks later (and lasted for 3 days) but he took the first step towards it. He ran and grabbed his own bag from his gear. 


“Hey, uh, Lilo I think this one will work better for you. It’s called Använda. These guys make a great f*cking bag — excuse my French.”


“Oh, thanks.”

Lilo eyed the colorful bag. Apparently this guy was really into exotic type floral designs.


“Yeah, I’ve owned it for a couple months, super useful, made of canvas and leather and don’t worry it has this antibacterial liner so it’s naturally cleaner than your average bag. Also you can order bags in so many colors and styles you’d be surprised.”


Lilo nodded slowly. Was somebody paying this guy? He usually seemed very mellow, but he was genuinely excited. It was only later she would realize he was containing himself when he told her about the bag and his enthusiasm was entirely genuine.


Lilo handled the elegant — but strong — bag. There was just something about it. Maybe it was the unique and classy construction, the combination of canvas and leather. The perfect balance between utility and style. This wasn’t some pretentious designer bag, but it had real panache. Lilo had to admit her first instinct wasn’t to get on with the scene, it was to take the bag and drive off and then find a way to buy many more bags from this company and line them up in her massive closet and use a different colored-one each day as her city bag. This bag was a marriage of durability and unique style: kind of like her last marriage (except it hadn’t been so hot on the durability part).


The rest is history: Lilo found her own style and stopped feeling like a dolled-up prop. She found her own voice and then lost it from telling so many friends about Använda and its great f*cking bags. Somebody had to know, after all: it was only fair. Maybe there was justice in the world — if not at least there was still Använda and its great f*cking bags. 



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