Once a symbol of abundance, the cannabis goody bag has gotten leaner. Maybe what’s disappearing isn’t just free weed, but a culture of generosity.
Three years ago on 4/20, I attempted something wildly ambitious: creating a beautiful cannabis goody bag for my first live event: “Women, Writing, Weed and Wine.”
Not decent or okay or one of those sad little sacks you politely accept before quietly abandoning it in the backseat of your Camry. I wanted gold. My audience was pretty easy to define: book lovers who loved weed and weed lovers who believed in the power of books. The goody bag had to honor both.
I didn’t have deep industry connections, but I did have an Outlook email account, formidable optimism, and absolutely no shame about cold-emailing cannabis brands.
I drove across California freeways like I was competing in a cannabis scavenger hunt. I made my way to Laguna Niguel for lipstick-shaped ashtrays. I visited a manufacturing office floating above Santee Alley for beautifully designed pre-rolls. I picked up blood orange THC seltzers in a West L.A. parking lot and wine-flavored cannabis gummies outside a townhouse in North Long Beach that felt suspiciously like a spy exchange.
Authors, healers, and artists joined in too, contributing free courses, complimentary sessions, and art prints. In the end, I had a gift bag that reflected everything “Women, Writing, Weed and Wine” was supposed to be.
But the scavenger hunt taught me something else: The best cannabis goody bag isn’t necessarily the biggest one. A good gift is much less about price tag and weight than curation and connection. Most of us have received an expensive gift that felt completely phoned in, a tone-deaf gift card or something clearly grabbed at the last minute from a dusty garage. Many …
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Author: Hannah Eko / High Times
