Black feels like a uniform and olive can read as a costume; Vert Cypress lives comfortably in the gap between the two. It is a deep, vegetal green that behaves like a neutral with a memory – understated in shade, unmistakably green in sun.
Take the 28 cm frame: it stands just under the height of a wine bottle, eighteen centimetres across, with a profile so slim a coat can hang over it unnoticed. I keep a pocket notebook, sunglasses, a cardholder, keys and a small camera inside – a weekend kit rather than a commute kit, though in practice it manages both lives without complaint. The straps hold their placement over a smooth-weave jacket, which I tested on a two-hour walk without adjusting once.
Against Togo’s grain the green looks almost black in low light, then reveals its depth under a cafe awning or a street lamp. The silver finish is the right partner for it; gold would tip the whole thing warmer than the colour deserves, and this green is at its best when it stays slightly cool.
My one reservation is that deep greens read differently next to olive and khaki outerwear – check it against your usual coat before committing, because the bag changes character when the tones nearly match. It is also, quietly, the bag that looks best under autumn trees, where most greens give up. Kept with navy, charcoal or denim, it is unfailingly good company.

























































