Once upon a time, there was an enchanted kingdom where the air smelled faintly of burnt credit cards. In this realm, a house called Jimmy Choo decided it was time… to invent the seasons. After centuries of winter, summer, and falling leaves without any creative direction, someone clearly had to take control.

Out went embroidery and sequins, those poor exhausted ornaments. In came leather. More leather, always leather. But be careful, at Jimmy Choo, one does not simply work with a material, one “transfigures” it, sends it through existential therapy until it agrees to be sold at five times its price, in full “Jacquemus muse” style.

So, four Bon Bon bags. Spring in pink, autumn in metallic tones, and winter in silver. All of it wrapped in a discourse so laden with emotion you might think the leather itself is weeping. We hear about “depth,” “sensitivity,” “transformation”… You almost expect the bag to start reciting poetry or demanding civil rights.

But the real showstopper is this near-mystical obsession with the “essence of the seasons.” As if winter didn’t exist without aesthetic validation. As if autumn were trembling, waiting for a leather bag to finally give it meaning.

At its core, this collection is nature packaged, domesticated, sold with a ribbon and a receipt. A forest of cows turned into an accessory, an eternal cycle condensed into a limited edition. And meanwhile, somewhere, an environmentalist looks at all this… and vaguely wonders when exactly he became a marketing metaphor.

FM