My mother had a magic handbag when we were children. In fact, she had a number of them through the years. I presume that there was some Secret Handbag Shop where she'd buy them. I imagine it was one of those places in an alley, with a non-descript door on which you'd knock, perhaps three times, and a little slot would open through which you'd whisper a secret password (something like "Antwerp") and then it'd open, just wide enough to let her slip through, leaving the alley empty, and looking innocent.
Well that's how I think it happens, I may have got one or two details wrong (maybe the password is "Serendipity" or "Diddley-do".) She says she just gets them from normal shops. I know this is untrue, though, and she's actually been sworn to secrecy, and just can't tell the real story for fear of repercussions from The People who run the Secret Handbag Shop. However she obtained them, they were certainly magic. And still are.
You see, they have a never ending supply of tissues, generally a bit crumpled, but clean, that smell like her face powder (an extremely lovely, motherly-soothing smell). I have seen literally hundreds of them come out of there - to mop up spills, to blow snotty noses and - teenage cringe - to wipe small spots of dirt off our faces, with spit!
The main thing is that I never, ever, saw her put any of those tissues into the handbag. I told you it was magic, didn't I?