Lime is the bag I bought as a dare to myself, and it has repaid the nerve several times over. It is a bold, citrus green, brighter than anything else in my closet, and it does something no neutral can: it makes a plain white shirt and jeans look like a decision.
The twenty-nine centimetre Evelyne wears strong colour well because the perforated H and the soft drape break up the surface, so the shade never turns into a solid slab. Clemence leather here feels light and slightly spongy under the thumb, and the grain reads clearly across the front. The bag holds whatever shape your belongings give it and relaxes when emptied.
On a summer day it swallows a phone, a cardholder, keys, sunglasses, sunscreen and a paperback, and the back pocket keeps my phone accessible. The canvas strap crosses cleanly over a t-shirt without sliding, and the bag hangs close enough to the body to cycle with. For evenings I shorten the strap and it becomes unexpectedly rakish against a black dress. The bag has been to a wedding, a flower market and one very good birthday dinner, and the colour looked right at all three.
Fair warning: lime is a commitment, and it will not survive a wardrobe of muted pastels. But if you have ever wanted one bag that guarantees a second glance, this is the one, and the price of the ticket is simply owning it.













































