Identity confusion

I love my mother-in-law. She's a genuinely nice lady, very loving, very cool. I sometimes find her a trifle dorky in that generational way - no doubt in the same way that I will be dorky when I'm in my seventies.

I just got a birthday present from her in the mail. It's a Coach wallet. A quick trip to the Coach website reveals that it cost close to what I paid for my iPod Touch. The reason I looked is because I was hoping that it wasn't very expensive, because I'm feeling weirdly guilty about receiving it. This very nice wallet is going to end up being carried around in my ten-dollar, hippie-made, sourced-entirely-from-Goodwill purse, at least until it wears out and I buy a new one...probably from Target. I feel like this poor little wallet is going to be very confused about its new life with me. And a teensy part of my brain is going, "Did she not notice that I've never been one for designer bags? Did she forget that for big chunks of my life, I've used things like canvas bags obtained free from conventions, stuff that was on sale at Old Navy, and, perhaps most fashionably, a woven bag a friend brought me from a Paraguayan market?" I am trying to quash that part of my brain as being ungrateful, because it is. And MIL can be a trifle clueless, or perhaps she asked SIL, who is a fashion-diva-whozitz. And really, how the fuck am I supposed to turn up my nose at a lovely, expensive wallet? That's just twelve kinds of weird.

I just...feel strange about it. Like I should go out and buy a nicer bag so the wallet doesn't feel like it's come down in the world.