Presenting Brass Brothers Surf Company:

Our inaugural collection, Hawaii, began with a photo assignment on the Valley Isle — Haleakalā National Park, volcanic silence, rumbling coast, fluttering flashes of ʻiʻiwi crimson — light that gets in your blood. The island cast its spell.

Maui Nō Ka ʻOi. Maui is the best. The Hawaiians aren't wrong.

Over the past year I've returned to it many times with pen and paper — working out shapes, the memory of wind and water.

We've now added OBX. Our first love. A world away from the volcanic Pacific, but cut from the same cloth — a hundred miles of sandbar that won't sit still, shaped and reshaped by storm and current, the same water that swallowed ships and gave the place its name: the Graveyard of the Atlantic. Pirates worked these shoals once, hiding in inlets that don't exist anymore. The land here doesn't hold its shape. Maybe that's the point.