Our Story

Every set is named for a place on the Colombian coast.

Cartagena. Tayrona. Palomino. Barú. Guajira.

Behind the brand

I'm Colombian. That's the whole reason this brand exists, and it took me a while to work out why.

Where I'm from, a bikini isn't a test you pass or fail. Nobody is holding their breath at the water's edge. Women wear what they like, at whatever size they are, and the day is about the water and the people in it.

Then I watched how women shop for swimwear here — the dread of it, the cover-up bought in the same transaction, the apology folded into the whole thing — and I couldn't make the two pictures fit together.

It was never the bodies. It was the swimwear, and everything the industry teaches women to think while they're buying it.

Why we started

Ask a woman about the last swimsuit she bought and she won't describe the swimsuit. She'll describe the changing room.

The strip lighting. The three-way mirror. The particular silence of deciding something about yourself that isn't true.

That room is where most swimwear brands win. They sell you the fix for a problem they invented — hold this in, hide that, don't forget the cover-up. You walk out having bought something, and having quietly agreed to something.

We started because that's a bad trade.

A bikini can't change your body and shouldn't be asked to. What it can do is fit — properly, adjustably, on the day, in whatever shape you woke up in.

So: bikinis worth owning, cut for real proportions, named for the coast I grew up knowing. And the hope that you put one on and feel the way women at home have always felt in them — which is to say, not thinking about it much at all.

What we don't do

We don't run permanent sales. Our prices are our prices.

We don't restock everything. Runs are small on purpose — which means the woman on the next sunlounger probably isn't wearing yours.

Questions about fit, sizing or an order? Talk to us — a person answers.