A night train to Vienna taught me why this wallet exists. Boarding with a coat, a book and the Dogon in 89 Noir, I had my tickets, my passport and my cards in one flat object I could open on a fold-down table without clearing space first. Nothing fell out, nothing needed repacking, and the silver keeper closed over the strap with a firm little click that I have liked ever since.
Twelve centimetres wide and twenty long when open, it is built around banknotes rather than around cards. Mine carries three cards in the sleeve, a loose note flattened across the middle, and a separate slip of paper with addresses on it that I have never digitised. The grain of the Togo is tight enough to look formal against wool yet supple enough that the fold never cracks, even in a cold carriage.
Silver on black gives the piece a cooler, quieter mood than the gold version, closer to a good pen than to jewellery. The leather has held its depth: no grey bloom at the corners, no shine in the middle, and the only evidence of use is a slight softening along the fold, exactly where you would want it.
The honest note is the one that applies to every Dogon: this is not a pocket wallet, and the strap closure wants two hands. Travel and coats are its element. Buy it for that and it will outlast the itinerary.









































