Five things we believe, stated plainly.
Ink fades, cracks and peels; it is a promise with an expiry date. Metal wears in, polishes on its high points, deepens in its recesses, and looks richer at year five than at day one. Every signature in this house is hardware set by hand, because we want our garments to age the way good objects age: visibly, and in their favour.
Editions are counted, stamped in the metal and logged in a registry that never grows. A returned number goes back on sale as itself, not as a fresh unit. Scarcity is a promise about the past as much as the future: the thirty people who bought must stay thirty, or the word 'edition' means nothing.
A spare stud travels in every box, and the re-set service is free for the life of the garment, for every owner. We would rather fix a piece twelve times than sell you a thirteenth. The economics of this are terrible and the point of it is total: a garment that can be repaired is a garment designed to be kept.
Cut, sewn, washed and studded in Italy, in one atelier, by people we know by name. No anonymous supply chain, no 'designed in' asterisks. When we say fourteen minutes of handwork, we can point at the bench where the minutes happen.
No logos, no slogans, no prints shouting from the chest. The hardware is the only signature, and it whispers. If you know, you know; if you do not, you will ask the person wearing it, which is the oldest and best advertising there is.
Every stud fixed by hand through the fabric, with an internal washer. Cut, sewn and finished in our atelier.
No prints, no logos. The hardware is the only signature, stamped in gold-finish knurled metal.
A spare stud in every box. If you ever lose one, we re-set it free, forever.