Lime body, Vert Comics green, a Bleu Aztèque tail: this seahorse looks like it escaped from a comic panel, and that is the highest compliment I can pay a piece of leather. On raw denim and white cotton it is unbeatable; anywhere else, it is a talking point. On a grey day it is a small holiday; on a sunny one, a festival.
Twelve-point-seven centimetres tall and only a centimetre thick, it is Milo lambskin dyed bright and even, with the lanyard knotted through and ready to hang. The matte finish saves it from looking like a plastic toy — you see the grain even in the loudest colour, which is the difference between a joke and a piece. The back is a single clean seam, which shows the dye off to its best advantage.
It spends most of its life clipped to a bucket bag I take to the coast. Salt air, sun and the occasional splash have not touched the dye; a wipe with a dry cloth restores the surface. Small leather goods in bright colours have to earn trust, and this one has earned mine. It has been photographed by two strangers and one very serious seagull.
The honest note: lime and emerald can look costume-ish in winter, so this is a three-season charm at best, and it disagrees with burgundy, rust and most autumnal palettes. Pair it with blue, white and grey, and it never misfires. Keep it for the seasons that deserve it, and it will never tire. Made in France.





















