Tati’s Travels: A Tale of Tail-Wagging Adventures
Tati’s Travels: Why I Like Large Handbags (A Tale of Tail-Wagging Adventures)
It all started during my third year of college, when a tiny little Yorkshire Terrier named Tara trotted right into my heart—and into my handbag. From that day on, she was my pint-sized partner in everything. Movies, errands, shopping trips… she went wherever I went, perfectly nestled inside my soft, roomy bag. With a discreet peek of her nose through the zipper, she’d take in the world without ever making a sound.
Yorkies, you see, are excellent co-pilots—if they’re sweet-natured and know how to keep a low profile (and Tara certainly did).
Years passed, and my life evolved—new cities, new chapters, and new furry loves. Sasha came next, then Daisy, and now Tati. Each of them had their own style, but one thing stayed the same: a great big bag was never far from reach. Whether or not a pup was tagging along, the right handbag always mattered.
So when it came time to design the Carol Entin Handbag Collection, I naturally thought beyond my own puppy-packed experiences. I knew not everyone carries a six-pound dog in their tote, but everyone deserves a handbag that works as hard as it wows.
That’s why our collection includes everything from the elegant Overture Overnight Bag to the Lift large Bag—each one thoughtfully made with essentials like zippered pockets (for the little things), comfy straps, soft linings, and sturdy little feet to protect the bottom. Because no one wants a gorgeous bag sitting directly on the floor. Ever.
Handbags are more than fashion. They’re companions in life’s chaos, carriers of memories… and, in my case, often carriers of tiny paws and wet noses.
Always with puppy love,
Carol & Tati 💕
P.S. The Bark Heard Round JFK:
Back in the Tara days, airlines weren’t exactly pet-friendly. My roommate and I had our Yorkies zipped quietly into our bags, hearts pounding with hope. But just as we reached the gate—yip! One of the pups gave us away, and a fellow passenger (traitor!) turned us in.
We were stopped cold: either put them in the cargo hold or get off the plane. We chose door number three—marching off with our dignity and our dogs. Six hours later, a sweet evening flight to Miami (and an even sweeter stewardess with water and snacks) made up for it all.
Nowadays? People fly with their Great Danes in first class. Progress