The Black Mini Bags We Keep Coming Back To
I used to think a mini bag was a scam. A little black pouch that fits a phone, a card and absolutely nothing else, sold to women who apparently don’t…
I used to think a mini bag was a scam. A little black pouch that fits a phone, a card and absolutely nothing else, sold to women who apparently don’t…
Brown solves a problem white trainers never quite manage, which is looking deliberate rather than laundered. A good brown trainer reads as leather goods first and sportswear second, closer in…
I spent about four years convinced brown ballet flats were a “sensible shoe,” the kind of thing your aunt wears to a garden centre, and I want to apologise to…
I spent years thinking brown was the bag colour equivalent of saying “no worries either way” when someone asks what you want for dinner. Fine. Fair. Deeply unexciting. Then I…
I spent about four years believing the black clutch had to be tiny and stiff and slightly too small for anything useful, because that’s what I was handed at every…
I spent years thinking boucle was a texture for other people. Women who owned proper coffee tables and didn’t have toddlers wiping yoghurt on their sleeves. Then I borrowed one…
I spent about three years thinking brown cardigans were a punishment. A thing your geography teacher wore. A thing that said “I have given up on colour and possibly on…
I spent a solid four years thinking brown backpacks were what you wore if you’d given up, the fashion equivalent of a sensible car. I owned a black one, a…
I spent an entire winter convinced gilets were a cruel joke, a coat for people who run hot and think the rest of us should suffer for it. Then I…
Burgundy does something a black backpack never quite manages for office wear: it reads as considered rather than default. The colour carries enough depth to work with tailoring and enough…