On a toasty day in May, after the lunchtime rush, a short, colorfully dressed Indian woman is carefully organizing racks of faux purses. She arranges them by color and label; Prada on the top left, Chanel along the bottom with the Louis Vuittons and Kate Spades. Hundreds of people walk by every hour; brash, eccentric and irritable New Yorkers who must get where they are going as quickly as possible.  Few look at the garish bags so common in the city. The woman’s only customers are cheap, obnoxious tourists who want to be fashionable. She cringes as she exchanges each bag for cash or the swipe of a plastic card, recalling the days when she was able to buy the real thing without a thought.  

“How could these pathetic and ridiculous looking people buy such crappy purses? Honestly, what the hell is wrong with them? I wouldn’t be caught dead with something so obviously fake.  Sooo tacky.” 

Kelly, our purse selling heroine, keeps her thoughts to herself, knowing that this is her livelihood after losing her badly managed boutique.  Two years ago, Dunder-Mifflin had shuffled its employees around, promoting Michael to corporate and putting Dwight in his place.  Jim had left to job hunt in NYC about year before the "reorganization"; his wife Pam was now a mid-level artist in advertising.  The day that those two quit had been super-sad; Kelly had made sure to wear water-proof mascara because Pam was like her best friend at the office and now she was leaving and that was like the most upsetting thing ever.  Soon after Dwight was named district manager, Kelly left the company because really, who wanted to work for Dwight?  He had mellowed out after making an honest woman of Angela, but then, you still had to deal with Angela Schrute being in the office.   

With all the changes taking place at DM, Kelly had decided that she and Ryan should move on with their own lives.  This apparently meant moving to New York City and coercing Ryan into opening an accessories store called “Girly-Girl”.  Which, of course, was not what Ryan meant by wanting to open his own business, but surprisingly, Kelly could sell lipstick to a chicken, so the boutique was not in the red.  The problem came from the fact that Ryan couldn't keep the books, and Kelly's chief fashion consultant Sebastian (actually just a sales clerk, but Kelly hated the sound of that) completely screwed her out of thousands of dollars, leaving her bankrupt but without enough proof to sue his sorry ass. She sunk into a freak depression; eating enormous amounts of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, screaming at Ryan til she made herself hoarse, and stupidly buying clothes she couldn’t possibly afford. Fortunately, she had some connections in New Delhi that were willing to help her get back on her now fat feet and start a knock-off purse stand near her apartment in Manhattan. The stress of setting it up and selling ugly purses to ugly people made her skinny again, to her great delight. She saw no humor in the fact that she was now literally a bag lady, even if all her acquaintance (i.e. Ryan and Jim) did. But she kept her head about her and was actually making some money from her stand, though she wouldn’t get up before ten in the morning to open it to anyone.    

This sunny day would be another turning point in the wondrous life of Miss Kelly Kapoor. An unusually refined woman approached the stand.  

“Do you have any green croc bags? I’m looking for something small and light, for, uh, a party,” she asked slowly.  

Kelly moved towards the Gucci pile and grabbed one. “Will this do?”  

“Yes, that’s fine,” replied the woman.  

As Kelly moved towards her cash register to ring up the hideous crocodile clutch, she felt a cold slap over her wrist.  “What do you think you’re doing!? Get that off me! I have a permit to sell these damn things ya know!”  

The undercover cop who had cuffed Kelly didn’t appreciate her big mouth and proceeded to explain the situation rather bluntly.  

“Look lady, these hand bags are hot items and will be confiscated by the NYPD. Hopefully you aren’t as dumb as I think you are and will confess to being involved in a stolen designer goods ring that your buddies in New Delhi are running. Just stop bitching and get in the car!”  

Even though Kelly had gone to college, majored in fashion marketing, and basically knew everything about style, she hadn’t looked very closely at what she was selling. The bags weren’t knock-offs; they had “fallen off the truck” in New Delhi just like Kelly would be “landing in jail” in a few minutes. Either her Indian cousins are sneaky like that, or she’s just not the shiniest diamond in Cartier. The latter seems more likely.  

After a short trial, Kelly was shipped off to Sing Sing Prison in Upstate New York. On the way there, she pondered her future home and remembered an important fact: Sing Sing was featured in "Breakfast At Tiffany’s".

“If Audrey Hepburn can look elegant and stylish in this hell-hole, so can I!”

“Not even a strung-out disco queen would have worn something this disgusting! There must be a way to make it attractive!”            

Being an inventive inmate, Kelly ordered a Bedazzler and some puffy paint from a catalog and began creating a new line of sexy, sophisticated “cell-wear” for the fashion-conscious prisoner. The head warden even allowed the ladies to have uniforms in fabrics other than polyester, like denim or velour; the warden wasn't just being nice, because when Kelly Kapoor was driven, she could be likened to a Chihuahua hopped up on Pixie Stix.  Kelly kept quite busy, as she received orders from white-collar prisons all over the country. She was released for good behavior and general cuteness within a year. Her show during Fashion Week drew rave reviews ("Miss Kapoor's Sing Sing line is Valley Girl chic meets motorcycle mama" -Elle ) and established her as the most sought after designer in correctional facility wear. She currently resides in a beautiful loft off Central Park, making daring apparel by day and partying all over New York by night.