Volume XVII Free with every order - Free global shipping from 125€
Hi,
It’s nice to make your acquaintance.
Well, actually we’ve been around a bit. But more in the shadows. On the fringes. At the forefront, but thoroughly behind the scenes. It’s been a little while coming.
Wasted Talent was born on a late summer’s evening in the South West of France. A conversation after the flowing of the vinos that habitually doth flow in this part of the world. A conversation born out of frustration of the lack of innovation in the surf and skate scenes across Europe. The need for a common space for brands and products that we believed in. Something with a little Euro flavour, a little je ne sais quoi but still presenting a well served dish internationally. Hopefully we suit your palate, as we imagine (like ours) it’s difficult to please in an age defined by over information, constant connectivity, over simulation and hyper mobility.
And as for how we got here? We racked up air-miles, wrote thousands emails, made phone calls, missed flights, made flights, discovered trains are maybe better then missed them too. We’ve been on too many trips. Some productive. Some not. We maxed out every credit card offered to us and made student overdrafts look laughable. We were told we were too young, too ambitious, too inexperienced. We’ve been applauded and laughed at. But with a little tenacity, some luck, a heap of mistakes and a slew of good times we made it. A little rough around the edges, eyes a little bloodshot, some late nights, some early mornings but here we are. We made a magazine and a store and we hope you like it.
We, like you wanted something a little different. A little more refined. Products that you couldn’t get just anywhere. Surf isn’t just doobie smoking bros down the beach anymore. It’s grown up. Educated. Travelled. Well versed outside the world of surf. Fitting into cocktail bars in Lisbon and Discos in Berlin. The long Spanish afternoons and the rain in London.
Put simply, you need clothes and accessories you can wear from the beach to the bar and beyond and not look like a total kook in the process. Quite the opposite in fact - The epitome of Costal Sophistication.
