I took this bag on its first trip before I had properly thought it through: a blue leather bag, in the blue city of Nice, in July. It held up better than my packing list did. Blue France is a royal blue that stays saturated in sunlight instead of bleaching out, and that week convinced me it is a working colour, not a special-occasion one.
At nineteen centimetres wide and fifteen tall, the body is compact, but the interior layout rewards a bit of discipline: phone flat against the back, cardholder and keys up front, a lipstick in the gap. Everything stays put when you swing it off the shoulder to open it. The strap has not stretched a millimetre, and the corners have taken airports and taxis without complaint.
The silver hardware is deliberately plain against this much colour, and Epsom’s crosshatch-style embossing gives the surface a fine, dry texture that I find reads more expensive than glossy finishes. Scuffs dull out, rain wipes off, and the bag holds its shape whether it is full or nearly empty.
My honest note: royal blue attracts comments, and if you wanted anonymity this is not your bag. After five years of picking blues, though, I think this is the shade that survives changes in taste, and the silver clasp keeps it from feeling ornamental. Two summers in, it still looks like the newest bag I own.





















































