We have two new sandal designs for women: The Caprias and the Mexicanas. I prototyped these designs over a year ago and they sat on my workbench shelf waiting for the right time when we could commit to fix the remaining 20% of the outstanding design and quality issues.

Both sandals are made with the highest grade full grain leathers. The uppers are double-lock stitched onto recycled airplane tire for long wearabilty. Simple, handsome, comfortable, and built to last.

The Caprias:


The Mexicanas:


A long forgotten story about the coolness of sandals. My friends Hendrik, Susan, Solveig, and I spent a most excellent 2 nights on the Isla Del Sol (Island of the Sun) in Lake Titicaca back in ’99.

When we landed, the island, the birthplace of Inca mythology, had no electricity and minimal other amenities. The 4 of us for whatever reason ended up banding together with 2 young British guys that were traveling during their gap year. I left Solveig to nap while one of them and I took a hike to investigate a restaurant that might or might not be open on the other side of the island.  Jake was wearing the oldest, most wore out pair of leather sandals that I had ever seen in my life. The trail was nothing more than sharp rocks, wet sheep shit, and other hazards so I felt inclined to ask him about his choice of footware. In an offhand kind of way, as only the British can, Jake said that he was wearing the same pair of sandals that his father wore during his gap year when he trudged around India back in the ’70s.

We all congregated later for dinner which was a wonderful affair that lasted for 3 hours. We ate fresh trout from the lake. The one room restaurant was illuminated by gas lamps. There was plenty of beer to drink. And the 2 young British guys regaled us with stories that had us screaming with laughter. Jake’s mate especially was a truly gifted raconteur.

The 4 of us knew that we were dealing with 2 extraordinary young guys but just how extraordinary I didn’t learn until later that evening on the walk back to the hotel that Jake – the bony, long-beaked, sunburned kid – was non other than Jake/Jacob Astor. In case you’re not up on your history, that’s the Astor from ‘Waldorf Astoria’  and old money. We talked of those things briefly. He dismissed his privilege and wealth with a single flat statement that had the word primogeniture in it; meaning left unsaid that it was other family members (the tradition of eldest son) that inherited the  fortunes.  He didn’t feel the need to talk about it and I didn’t feel the need to press it so out of politeness I never asked who his mate was.

The evening was made more memorable as the walk back was punctuated with 360 degree views of the island as everything was lit periodically by a violent and breathtaking electrical storm.