
The Ondine
One-piece · low scooped back
Our first cut and still the one we reach for. Holds its line from first length to last.
$148
Collection № 04 · Meltemi
Swimwear made slowly on the Ligurian coast from regenerated nylon, built to outlast summers, tides, and the hotel pool you were not strictly a guest of.

Named for the dry summer wind that flattens the Aegean by afternoon. Three looks, two prints, one long season.





Everything below is sewn in editions of a few hundred. When a colour is gone it waits for next summer, like the rest of us.

One-piece · low scooped back
Our first cut and still the one we reach for. Holds its line from first length to last.
$148

Two-piece · tie sides
Top and bottom sold as a pair, sized separately. Stays put through a proper dive.
$132

Mirrored · anti-fog
For the glare hours. Split-seal gaskets, no raccoon rings before lunch.
$38

Woven cotton · 90 × 170 cm
Loomed dense, hemmed flat, dries before you do. Sand shakes out in one flick.
$56
Every Cerulean piece is knitted from Aqualith™, a regenerated nylon spun from recovered fishing nets and carpet offcuts. It arrives on our cutting tables in Sestri as a dense, matte knit that holds its colour through two hundred and forty hours of chlorine testing, roughly three summers of daily lengths.
We cut two ways. Low tide sits lighter: higher leg, open back, for floating and warm bays. High tide is our training cut: locked seams, full back, straps that stay crossed at the flip turn. Both are sewn flat so nothing chafes at kilometre three.
Offcuts go back into the loop; last season we returned 312 kg.
A suit is a small machine for holding you together at speed. Treat it like this and it will do ten seasons.
Fresh, cool water within the hour: salt and chlorine keep working long after you stop swimming.
A basin, a drop of mild soap, a gentle press. Never wring; twisting is what ages elastane, not swimming.
Lay it on the Meridian, roll once, then flat over a rail out of the sun. Direct heat fades a print in a season.
Pool copings, pier ladders, velcro straps: snags love a fine knit. Sit on the towel; that is what it is for.
Elastane recovers overnight. Two suits in rotation will outlast four worn back to back.
Five stretches of water we know well enough to publish. The temperatures are what we measured, not what the tourist board would like them to be.
Flat by seven, busy by ten. Enter off the left-hand rocks.
Deep straight off the shelf. The current runs west after noon.
Our own bay. Two buoys, four hundred metres apart.
Warmest water we publish. Shallow for a long way out.
The winter swim. Somebody is always already in.


Eleven people in a first-floor room above a chandlery, four streets back from the water. Every suit is cut, sewn and finished here, which is slower than the alternative and the reason we only manage two collections a year.
The seams are flatlocked rather than overlocked: the join sits flush with the cloth instead of standing proud of it, so there is nothing to rub at kilometre three. It takes about four times as long and it is the only part of the process we will not move.
Open to visitors on the first Saturday of the month, if you ring first.
Measurements in centimetres, taken on the body rather than on the garment. Torso is the loop from shoulder, through, and back.
Between two sizes, size down for High tide and up for Low tide.
If you swim lengths or race, take High tide and your usual size. If you swim to float, read a book and get wet, take Low tide. Between the two, the torso length is the thing that changes, not the width.
Size down for a training fit, up for comfort. The knit gives about a centimetre in the water and takes it back when it dries.
Eventually, as it finishes everything. Aqualith holds colour through two hundred and forty hours of testing, which is about three summers of daily lengths. Rinse cold and it will outlast that.
Thirty days, unworn, hygiene strip intact. Post it back in the bag it came in; the bag is the return envelope, which is why it looks like that.
Trunks in the same two cuts, from spring. The waistband took eleven goes and is still not right.
One letter a month: sea temperatures we trust, a swim worth travelling for, and first call on new editions. No sales voice, ever; we are usually in the water by eight.
1,900 swimmers already float here. Leave whenever the water gets cold.
Six shops we would visit even if they did not carry us. Call ahead for sizes; small editions travel unevenly.