Inside-joke mending project

A few years back, my guy and I did a big deal of a sporting event called an IronMan.  My goal was to finish it and to "not collapse", and I succeeded.  Likewise, my husband finished and did not collapse.  So, that's good.

Ever since then, my husband keeps buying himself random IronMan-themed stuff.  He is not a miser.  He says, "it was on sale!", but it's still stuff, and he's still paying for it.  And even though it has that IronMan logo, it's honestly pretty crummy stuff as far as construction goes.  

Case in point: this nylon bag, on which the nylon seams keep fraying, and the straps therefore break off and become useless for carrying the bag.  

He was hauling 8 pounds of coffee in it, as part of his walking rehabilitation, when the straps broke again.  With only one good arm, he couldn't carry the bag in that condition, so he called N-son to meet him by the side of the road, to fetch the bag (via bike and a sturdier backpack).  When they got home, he then asked me if I could fix it yet again.  

On the one hand, it's a crummy bag (from the point of view of anyone who cares about utility and workmanship).  On the other hand, Thorstein Veblen --- the 19th-century dude who popularized the phrase "conspicuous consumption" -- notes that we like our possessions more for what they add to our reputation than for how well they serve our practical needs; and that IronMan logo means a heck of a lot to my guy.  I knew if I didn't find a way to fix it, he'd just go buy another one. 

So, here's what I did.  Inside this flimsy piece-of-sheet bag, I made a sturdy bag that's not going to break easily.  And I made it out of a thick cotton hospital gown my husband brought home after he broke his arm.  

See the IronMan logo on the cords and on the bag?
Inside, there's now a medical-gown sack.  

Heh.  I love this.  On the outside, there's the show-off nylon shell that breaks apart easily, but inside -- invisible to onlookers -- lurks the strong medical sack that supports everything and keeps it all from falling apart further.  

What a mending metaphor, eh?