My wife Lucy got me a Prada briefcase last September as a present, not for any occasion really. Come to think of it, she was increasingly not down with me carrying my laptop and notebooks in this broken and apparently unfixable Samsonite bag that belonged to my grandfather. The bag had a yellowed card in a tag indicating that, if found, please send to the concierge at the Carlyle. I replaced it with the Prada: elegant but understated, an ideal size and weight, just the thing to break out if you feel like going to work in an office.
