Box calf in a wine colour is as close as leather gets to a good glass of Bordeaux, and the pun writes itself: 57 is a deep, cool burgundy with purple at the bottom of it, the sort of red that turns almost black in a low room and shows its hand only in daylight. I have owned this bag for two winters and it has become the quiet centre of my cold-weather wardrobe.
The Box finish is the reason to choose this over the same shade in a pressed grain. Box is smooth and glassy and it reflects like lacquer, so the colour has depth where a matte surface would have flatness. Silver-tone hardware against the wine red reads modern and slightly cold, which I prefer on dark reds; gold would make the whole bag more traditional. Nineteen centimetres by fifteen by four keeps the shape formal.
Inside: phone, card case, a slim keyring, lipstick and my reading glasses folded into a soft case – the last one is a tight fit but it works if the case is cloth, not hard shell. The flap springs open with a nice firmness when new. The fixed strap gives a high crossbody carry on me, which keeps the bag close in a coat crowd.
Both cautions here are Box-related. First, scratches: the first ones arrive in the first months, from fingernails, seatbelts, watching a film – and then, as the patina builds, they stop mattering, blending into the softness. Second, Box is not a rain leather; blot water and let the bag dry away from heat. With those two rules respected, this is a bag for a decade, and then another.



















































