Prunoir answers the question is it black with one word: mostly. In a dim room it is simply a dark, glossy little bag; take it outdoors and the plum comes through, purple-black like the skin of a ripe prune. In the right light it is the most interesting dark bag I own.
The small Picotin does not pretend to carry a life; it carries an evening. A phone, a cardholder, keys and a lipstick is the working list, and the soft Clemence body takes them without a single stiff edge. Unlined, the interior is the suede side of the same hide, and the mouth opens easily because the leather wants to fold. On a dark shelf it disappears entirely; held to the light, the plum wakes up.
Silver hardware suits the plum better than gold would; the cool fittings keep the color in shadow territory, and the lock, sitting on its tab, looks like a piece of hardware borrowed from something older and more formal. The handles hold their shape and carry in the palm, and the bag weighs less than a pair of sunglasses, which keeps it comfortable through a long dinner.
One honest adjustment for anyone expecting black: this color will keep surprising you. Under warm lamps it warms and shows its purple; in flat daylight it reads nearly noir. If you want a true black evening bag, choose one; if you want one with a secret, this is it.

















































