There are colors that whisper and colors that take the floor. Lime takes the floor. This is a sharp, electric yellow-green — the inside of a lime, not the skin — and silver hardware keeps it cool and zesty where gold might push it toward candy. I know exactly one correct way to wear it: let the bag be the only thing in the room that is playing.
Underneath the color it is the same solid design as its siblings — Clemence pebble grain over the 26 by 18 by 12 centimetre frame, handles that fold away, strap that swings it to the hip. The soft, matte leather is what keeps such a loud hue wearable; a shiny finish would have made it a costume piece.
Contents when I take it out: phone, keys, a card case, sunglasses, lipstick, and nothing else worth carrying, because a lime bag and a cluttered interior are two different philosophies. The side zips hold a metro card and a spare hair tie, and the leather inside is pale enough that I never lose anything at the bottom.
Honest limits, as promised: this is a two-season color for most wardrobes and a one-outfit color for some. It marks the same as any bright leather — a faint grey scuff appeared on my base corners within weeks. And in photographs it is the loudest object you own; nothing else in the frame competes. If you accept all three statements with a shrug, you are the right owner for it.













































