I have 1 bag, my favorite, which I guard as a dragon over treasure. I still use it--but feel every scratch across my heart & roar a tiny bit.
The others, I use without much thought. I have bags & for different purposes, so none go neglected.
Maybe I'm familiar with old things, in old countries, so the process of use/maintain/damage/repair/use doesn't seem sinful or alien?
Maybe each bag having a happy story lets me look forward to seeing & using it?
Or, maybe because I don't resell bags, no ghosts of future buyers whisper about tiny blemishes?
I don't know the best answer for those facing unused bags & fear. I do hope my thoughts are helpful.
I think bags aren't perfect insects to be preserved in amber--they're tools, with which we build a little extra joy into each moment.
More moments aren't guaranteed--so, I wear a great handbag in this one.
Best wishes.