The brand that has elevated the art of luggage

Deep in the English county of Hertfordshire, in a peaceful factory hidden from view, time seems to stand still. It is here that Globe-Trotter suitcases have been brought to life for over 120 years. To understand their DNA, you have to step inside, breathe in the smell of leather and listen to the silence of the repeated movements. Each piece of luggage is assembled by hand in a meticulous ballet of craftsmanship : the leather corners are moulded for five days on Victorian presses, the handles are sewn one by one and the straps are cut to the millimetre.

The shell, made of orange vulcanised fibre, the company's emblem since 1901, is patiently attached to a beech wood frame. Brass fittings, tissue paper lining, hand-riveted: nearly a hundred steps, ten days of work, and four weeks for delivery.

More than just luggage, it's a piece of furniture. ‘It's not a trunk,’ insists Couli Jobert, artistic director at Globe-Trotter. ‘It's a suitcase. It has been passed down through generations. It lives, develops a patina, and is so beautiful it can be displayed in a living room.’ At Globe-Trotter, function meets emotion. The latest models feature lightweight wheels and removable linings for airport security checks, but without ever betraying the brand's spirit. The luxury is discreet, timeless and confident. You choose a suitcase as you would choose a watch or a club chair.

Founded in Germany in 1897 and transferred to England in 1901, the company has developed an inimitable style. Its collaborations are as carefully chosen as its customers: Daniel Craig, a huge fan, insisted on Globe-Trotter suitcases in James Bond's boot; Aston Martin, Peanuts, David Shrigley and Alexander McQueen have all had their own special series. ‘These are pieces of luggage that say something about their owner,’ says Couli Jobert. ‘You don't hide them, you show them off. And above all, you pass them on.’

The artistic director, who previously worked at Hermès, knows this well: in a world of disposable suitcases, Globe-Trotter's refinement is a manifesto. Each craftsman specialises in a particular skill. Nailing, cutting, assembly: nothing is automated. Better still, suitcases sometimes return to the factory, dented and scratched, to have their memories repaired. ‘It's like resoling a shoe,’ she says. ‘A form of English-style sustainability.’

‘Tell me about your suitcase, and I'll tell you who you are.’

With its rectangular shape and rounded corners, it evokes departures of yesteryear, train station platforms, and transatlantic liners. It does not seek to seduce the crowds, but to accompany lives. A Globe-Trotter suitcase is not lent, it is passed on. ‘It's an object that your children will inherit, that your grandchildren may one day open like a treasure chest,’ says Couli.

At a time when lightness and practicality are valued, when suitcases stack up and roll silently, Globe-Trotter cultivates character. It doesn't hide its signs of wear and tear: it displays them like stories. A scratch, a dent, a forgotten airport sticker, and you can already imagine an adventure. It's not just luggage. It's a memory in motion.

Article written by Désirée de Lamarzelle from issue 13 of Oniriq, available at newsstands
Translated by Bethszabee Garner