The Case for Buying Less, Better

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FPM Milano’s Legacy of Longevity

7 June, 2026

Words by:

Sarah Palmieri

From Milan Design Week collaborations to hand-finished aluminium trunks, FPM Milano approaches luggage as an object worth keeping. The result is travel gear built for decades, not seasons.

An aluminium suitcase must be the chicest possible travel accessory. A companion that belongs in the same conversation as great craftsmanship, serious durability, and an aesthetic that doesn’t date. You see it resurface every time Jacob Elordi steps off an international flight in head-to-toe Bottega Veneta, or Margot Robbie moves through an airport in something pulled from our beloved Beare Park. The aluminium case is always in frame. Always right.

But spotting a trend and following it is easy. Our consumerism is flooded by exactly that. So when it comes to buying something intended to last, to actually earn a permanent place in your life, the question of craftsmanship and legacy becomes integral. That’s how I came across FPM Milano.

The full name is Fabbrica Pelletterie Milano, the Leather Goods Factory of Milan. It was founded in 1946 by Enrico Fremder, who set up a small workshop on Via Tito Vignoli with an ambitious goal: to show the world the beauty of Italian craft. Fremder wasn’t a man who thought small. In that same founding year he co-established ANIMPEC, the first trade association for Italian leather goods manufacturers, pulling together ten other firms to collectively advocate for and elevate the industry. That organisation eventually became Assopellettieri, and remains the most significant body representing Italian leather goods producers today. In 1962, Fremder went further, co-founding MIPEL, which grew into the most important international trade fair for leather goods and accessories. He was, in other words, not just building a brand but building an entire infrastructure around it.

Shortly after founding the factory, FPM opened a branch on Fifth Avenue in New York, a significant and early statement of international intent, maintained from 1956 to 1964. There is something quietly telling about that. A small Milanese workshop, barely a decade old, already positioned on one of the world’s most visible commercial streets. The ambition was never modest.

Enrico’s son Beppi eventually joined the business in 1975, but his path would take him elsewhere first. He spent years at Samsonite, rising to chief commercial officer for Europe before moving into private equity. When he eventually looked at what the family had built, the thinking was direct: there is a great company here, why not build it properly? The dormant FPM reawakened. It was a revival that understood something most heritage revivals don’t: that the original soul of a thing is worth recovering, not reimagining beyond recognition.

The piece that anchors FPM’s contemporary identity is the Bank collection, and its origin is as much about friendship as it is design. Beppi Fremder and Vienna-born, Milan-based industrial designer Marc Sadler had a long working relationship before the Bank came into being. Sadler is the kind of designer whose career resists easy categorisation, he has worked across furniture, ski boots, industrial objects, and medical equipment, always with a restlessness toward materials and a near-obsessive relationship with the logic of making things. The two shared a belief that most modern luggage had lost something in its chase toward the functional. The Bank was the answer.

Sadler’s brief to himself was demanding and specific: use 100% recycled materials, manufacture and assemble everything in Italy, and start not from what luggage currently was, but from what it once had been. The old trunk was the reference point, those heavy, beautifully latched cases of ocean liner travel, built to last voyages and not just flights. The name Bank is deliberate, carrying the connotation of a vault, something you entrust with valuables.

The result is a 97% aluminium shell built not from a single formed sheet, as most aluminium cases are, but from multiple layers, each one reinforcing the stress points that travel puts on a case. The aluminium undergoes a meticulous anodising process that protects against oxidation and rust while maintaining the clean, sharp surface that makes the case so visually distinctive. The corners are reinforced with moulded aluminium and the whole structure is held together with 128 rivets, each one individually inserted by hand. That detail sounds like the kind of thing a brand says to justify a price point, but consider what it actually means: each case passes through the hands of an artisan at 128 separate moments before it is finished. The handles are wrapped in soft Italian leather, embossed with the FPM logo. The butterfly locks — FPM’s most recognisable detail — are two recessed metal latches that sit completely flush with the shell, requiring a precise flip-and-twist motion to open. The click they make when they close is the kind of sound that makes you understand immediately that something has been thought through.

The interior holds the same standard. Fine Italian leather straps secure belongings on both sides. The lining is padded and removable for cleaning. Dividers and mesh pockets organise without fussing. Nothing about it is gratuitous. The Trunk on Wheels takes the Bank silhouette to a full travel scale, with dual wheels and the same lock system, sized for the kind of extended trip where you need to actually live out of your luggage. Aluminium, crucially, acquires character with use. Unlike polycarbonate which scuffs and looks tired, aluminium marks in ways that read less as damage and more as record.

The Bank spawned an extended family. The Bank S is a sportier, lighter version with easier-grip handles and four spinner wheels rather than dual fixed wheels. The Bank Light moves to high-performance Makrolon polycarbonate for travellers who want the aesthetic language of the Bank without the weight of full aluminium. The Bank Zip DLX uses a zip closure rather than butterfly locks for those who want faster access. Each variant makes a different argument about travel, but all of them share the same origin: a specific idea about what luggage should feel like to own.

FPM’s approach to collaboration has always been grounded in design rather than fashion. From early in its revival, the brand worked with some of the most credible figures in contemporary industrial and product design — Stefano Giovannoni, Jean-Marie Massaud, Marcel Wanders, Nendo’s Oki Sato, and Marc Sadler as the ongoing creative anchor. This was not about celebrity endorsement or capsule drops. It was about what happens when people who think seriously about objects are given a serious object to think about.

Marcel Wanders brought his characteristic tension between the baroque and the functional to the Saint-Jacques collection, suitcases that took the rigorous material demands of travel and ran them through his signature lens of ornament and narrative. Oki Sato and Nendo, who won the Wallpaper Design Award in 2012 and whose work has a quality of making complex things feel almost startlingly simple, designed the Kame collection, a case whose silhouette references the shell of a tortoise in a way that feels obvious only after you see it. Jean-Marie Massaud, whose practice spans from stadium architecture to automotive design and who won the Compasso d’Oro in 2011, brought a different kind of architectural rigour.

Sadler’s own collaborations with FPM have become increasingly expansive. He has taken the Bank chassis and used it as a starting point for a series of special editions that turn luggage into something closer to a proposition about how to live while travelling: a portable workstation built into the trunk format, a cookstation housing a cooktop and refrigerator within a recycled aluminium shell, a bedstation. These pieces debut at events like Milan Design Week, where they are understood not as novelties but as genuine design statements. The logic running through all of them is the same one that animates the Bank itself: a well-made container can hold almost anything worth carrying.

The fashion collaborations have been equally considered. FPM for Gucci brought the Italian luxury house’s recognisable red and green stripe as a strap detail across the aluminium body, a pairing of two Milan institutions that managed to feel neither forced nor obvious. Fendi and Chanel have both worked with FPM on private-label pieces. The Globe-Trotter collaboration, released in 2025, is perhaps the most interesting of recent partnerships: two heritage luggage houses with entirely different craft traditions, FPM’s Italian aluminium engineering meeting Globe-Trotter’s vulcanised fibreboard panels, a material the British maker has used since 1897. The resulting Bank Centenary collection, available in Ocean Green and Black across five pieces including a trunk and vanity case, is one of those rare collaborations where neither house has to compromise its identity to make the thing work. The tension between the two approaches is the point. FPM has also partnered with Pagani, the Italian hypercar manufacturer, which makes sense the moment you think about it: two companies that treat aluminium as a material worthy of obsession.

As someone who has traversed the full spectrum — the 60-litre backpack, the overstuffed tote, the 40-kilogram checked bag paired with a handbag that was supposed to do everything — I can say with some authority that the right luggage genuinely changes the experience of travel. I have carried bags down New York subway stairs, up cobblestone streets in Versailles, and thrown them into taxis in Kathmandu. The verdict is this: luggage that works well is luggage you stop thinking about.

Coming up to Sydney for Vivid and the film festival, I brought the trunk and soft backpack from FPM Milano. It has been a complete game changer. The combination of structure and ease, the way the trunk moves through airports, the fact that I have not once had to question whether it would hold up. The ease, the absence of worry, is what you are actually paying for.

There is a broader argument to be made here about the aluminium suitcase as a cultural object. We are slowly moving away from the logic of fast consumption toward something more deliberate, and not just in fashion, though the appetite for archival pieces, for considered dressing, for things that earn their place in a wardrobe rather than temporarily filling it, is clearly growing. It is about how we equip ourselves for living.

FPM sits at the intersection of that shift. It is not a brand asking you to buy into a seasonal story. It is a family-owned Milanese house with nearly eighty years of continuous craft behind it, making the same fundamental object — a case to carry your things, beautifully and and refining it endlessly. The aluminium trunk is not a luxury purchase in the sense of excess. It is a luxury purchase in the original sense: something made so well that it outlasts the need to replace it.

That feels, right now, like exactly the right kind of thing to own.

FPM Milano is available globally at select luxury retailers and at fpm.it

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