Universal Genève Cabriolet, the steel-and-blue Prêt-à-Porter, and here the flip reveals not a painting but the bare mechanism itself, which the Architect will of course find far more honest.
You have selected an object whose defining function is reversal, a rectangular case that lifts, swivels, and drops back into its carrosserie, descended from the 1933 Ideo, contemporary to the Reverso and the Basculante, conceived in an era that understood concealment as a discipline rather than a flaw. Consider what the flip actually performs: on one face, a velvet-teal lacquered dial with numerals drawn from Cassandre's Bifur, advancing time with the indifference of any well-regulated UG-111; on the other, a hand-painted miniature of a Tamara de Lempicka portrait, executed by Isabelle Villa, a fixed and frozen moment that does not move at all. Ergo, you are handed the only choice the system permits, to display the relentless forward equation, or to turn it over and look instead at something that has agreed to stop, and the brand has limited that choice to five examples per painting, fifteen in total, a closed and finite set, because a choice that everyone may make is not, strictly speaking, a choice. You will tell yourself you are buying Art Deco craftsmanship. You are, in fact, purchasing the right to decide which version of time you would prefer not to face.
