Playful purses carry the day.

Byline: Tara Solomon

MIAMI _ One of our favorite postcards, received years ago and for a time tacked upon our way-littered, 1970s-era refrigerator, depicted Barbie at her little plastic vanity, making a very Barbie-like proclamation about having been blessed with a God-given ability to accessorize.

Why we almost immediately thought of this after seeing artist-designer Veronicka Koebach's happy-girl flower purses remains a mystery, but there is something very precious and, yes, miniaturized about her one-of-a-kind creations. A tiny hatbox abloom with pink-and-white fabric daisies, a craft-store flamingo attached directly atop the garden. A silk-corded drawstring whose pouch is a giant nosegay of silk peonies. Like wearable still lifes, Koebach's flora and fauna handbags are as playful and eccentric as the South Beach community in which she has lived since 1988.

"Being in the middle of all this style and creativity, you can't help but get inspired," says the former New Yorker who, in the early `80s, designed papier-mache jewelry and custom leather belts, which she sold to Saks Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.

It was a painful brush with fate that served as the catalyst for her handbag line. Last December, Koebach fractured her tibia while biking up the Miami Beach boardwalk ramp. This resulted in a decidedly unglamorous leg cast for eight months, plus three months in a wheelchair. Unable to climb scaffolds to paint the architectural murals that had been her forte, Koebach had little choice but to contemplate another medium.

"I thought, `This is the year of the wacky purse, so why not make wacky purses?"' said Koebach. Her hunch was later confirmed by author and psychic Dennis Jackson, whom she met at Books & Books in February. "He told me to `pay attention to the small, colorful things.""

Armed with her "things happen for a reason" attitude, Koebach waited till she was on crutches, then hit the art and craft stores to load up on materials. "People thought I was crazy, going up and down the aisles on my crutches, carrying all these bags, but I didn't want to buy my flowers from a catalog. I needed to see them and touch them."