Every wardrobe of neutrals benefits from one loud object, and for me it is an orange wallet. This is the house orange, shade 93, a pure saturated citrus that stops short of brick and nowhere near rust. Pull it out in a grey coat and it is the only colour anyone notices.
Epsom keeps the shade undiluted. Because the grain is stamped and sealed rather than naturally patterned, nothing interrupts the surface: no mottling, no fading at the corners, which is more than I can say for smoother calfskins in strong colours. The compact body measures twelve centimetres by nine and a half, and the bright finish makes it look even smaller in the hand.
I fill it the same way I fill every Bearn: cards in the slots, notes in the bill pocket, transit tokens and odd change in the zip, receipts in the flat pockets until I clear them out. The openwork H fastens by feel now, the quiet reward of a design you stop thinking about. On a rainy commute I found one more virtue: the sealed surface wipes dry in seconds, no watermark, no blotting.
Honest limitation: this wallet will announce itself in a formal meeting. I noticed the first time I opened it across a boardroom table and decided I did not care. The upside is practical as well as cheerful; a bright orange compact is impossible to lose at the bottom of a dark bag.



































