Navy, red and black is the palette of stripe shirts, peacoats and harbour towns — a combination that has never once needed defending. On a seahorse, the three colours wrap around the curl of the body like a flag on a mast. It is the least likely member of my collection and the most reliable.
A slim strip of Milo lambskin, 5.5 centimetres wide and nearly thirteen tall, it hangs nose-down from its lanyard and lies flat against a bag’s cheek. The shades share the body and tail without any patchwork effect; the transitions are stitched, not printed, and the effect is closer to scrimshaw than to souvenir-stand paint. The tail coils upward, giving the whole figure lift, and the stitched eyes keep it calm company.
Mine moved onto a navy duffel last spring and has not come off since. Against crisp white cotton on a boat, or a grey coat on a ferry, the red section does the talking. It is the rare charm that suits a man’s bag and a woman’s bag without adjusting anything. It has crossed a channel in a coat pocket and stayed perfectly pressed.
Trade-off to note: deep blue lambskin shows faint grey scuffs more readily than black, and over years the rubis red can mellow slightly. Both are cosmetic and slow. Store it away from sunlight and this piece stays harbour-fresh. Deep colours suit it best; against white it stiffens into formality. Handmade in France.























