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My best friend said "hold on" seventeen times during a three hour outdoor concert. I counted. I had both hands free the entire night and nothing to hold on for. We do a summer concert every year. Just the two of us — no husbands, no kids, no responsibilities past 11pm. We pick the artist in January, buy the tickets in February, spend the next five months looking forward to it. This year it was an outdoor amphitheater, lawn seats, blankets on the grass, the kind of summer night that makes you feel like yourself again. We showed up with very different bags. I had the Mini GoFree. Worn across my chest as a crossbody — small enough to forget it was there, big enough to hold everything I actually needed for a night out. Phone, wallet, keys, lip gloss, my ID, a hair tie, a travel pack of Advil because I'm thirty-one and concerts are loud. All of it. Across my chest. Both hands free. Kayla had a tote. I love Kayla. The tote was a mistake and she knew it approximately forty-five minutes in. We found our spot on the lawn, spread the blanket, sat down. Kayla put her tote next to her on the grass. It immediately fell over and everything shifted to one side. She reorganized it. It fell over again. She propped it against her knee. That worked until she stood up for the first song. Here's what happened after that. Hold on #1. Opening act, first song. Kayla reached into the tote for her phone. It was at the bottom. Under her jacket. Under her wallet. Under everything. "Hold on." Thirty seconds of excavation. Found it. Hold on #2-4. She wanted a photo of the stage. Phone was at the bottom again. Three separate hold-ons across fifteen minutes. I took twelve photos during the same window with my phone out of the Mini GoFree in two seconds flat, back in two seconds flat, every single time. Hold on #5. Bar run. Kayla stood up, picked up her tote, put it on her shoulder, took three steps, realized it was too heavy to carry through the crowd comfortably, put it back down, took her wallet out, held her wallet in one hand and her drink in the other the entire way to the bar and back. I walked to the bar and back with both hands free and came back with both our drinks. She said "I hate this tote" for the first time at the bar. Not the last time. Hold on #9. The tote strap dug into her shoulder during the headliner. She switched shoulders. It dug into that one too. She ended up holding the bag in her lap for three songs while she figured out what to do with it. I had both arms around my knees, watching the stage, Mini GoFree flat across my chest, completely unbothered. Hold on #13. A guy behind us bumped into Kayla and her tote went sideways and her lip gloss rolled six feet across the lawn into the dark. She spent four minutes looking for it with her phone flashlight while the best song of the night played. I watched the stage and sang every word with both hands free. She found the lip gloss. She was not happy about it. Hold on #17. Last song. The whole lawn on their feet. I had both arms in the air, Mini GoFree across my chest, screaming the bridge with four thousand strangers on a perfect summer night. Kayla had the tote strap over one shoulder, one hand gripping the bottom, the other hand sort of half in the air. She looked at me. I had both arms up. She said "okay what is that bag." I told her. She pulled out her phone — other hand still on the tote — and ordered it standing on the lawn during the last song of the night while the confetti was still in the air. She texted me the next morning: "it arrived. why did I bring that tote." I didn't have a good answer. Some lessons you have to learn at a three hour outdoor concert while your lip gloss rolls into the dark. https://emmafy.com/products/gofree-the-roomiest-crossbody-copy