The name
comes first.

Every Ripaware piece begins as a handstyle on paper. The garment is built afterwards, around the letters, in thread heavy enough to outlast the person wearing it.

Three marks, one name

Premium Streetwear

One rail showing all three registers: the ornate script on the green hood, the RW monogram large on the black jacket and small on the grey vest, and the quiet R on the black hood — Left to rightScript · Monogram · Quiet R

The throwie is the street hand: cream, outlined, dripping, painted the length of a wall. The script is the house hand: brass on walnut, gold thread on navy, cut into the shop front. The RW monogram is the quiet hand, cut from blackletter and worked in gold thread, tonal on grey, embossed into a leather patch. It says the name without spelling it, which is the point. Same name, same writer, three registers and no fourth. Set in lettering it is always lowercase. It takes a capital only inside a sentence, like this one. The wordmark goes on the pieces meant to be read across a room. The monogram goes on everything else. Nothing carries both.

Five people on a rooftop at sunset, the olive bomber carrying the monogram in gold across the back and Ripaware down the sleeve

Four women in the burgundy crewneck, the denim jacket, the green satin bomber and the navy tee dress

On the body

Built to be
worn out

Nothing here is a display piece. The fleece is cut with room in the shoulder, the bomber takes a rucksack strap without crushing, and the denim is finished so it fades where you actually move.

Every piece is made in one cut and one set of sizes. Cropped lengths and full lengths sit in the same run, on the same rail, at the same price. The lettering is the reason to buy it. The make is the reason you still own it in ten years.

The Ripaware script embroidered in gold thread across a wall of tan leather and poured concrete

Thread, never ink

Nine thousand
stitches
per chest

Eleven thread colours, two passes on the machine. A raised satin core over a tonal underlay, so the letters catch light the way the ink does on a wall.

A screen print costs about forty cents and cracks inside a year. This is the whole reason the pieces are priced where they are.

Fleece weight: 480 gsm loopback
Chest mark: 9,140 stitches
Thread: 11 colours, 2 passes
Outerwear: Wool melton, satin, leather
Quiet pieces: Tonal deboss, no contrast
Hardware: Cast brass, engraved
Run size: 150 per colourway

The RW monogram in nine materials: cast brass, gold embroidery on denim, black and gold enamel, gold leaf on walnut, deboss in leather, woven patch, screen white, machined brass, and tonal on denim

Why ware

Ware is what
you keep

Silver·Stone
Glass·Ware

Ware is the oldest word in English for goods made well enough to be worth naming. Silverware, stoneware, glassware. Never the disposable thing, always the piece that outlives whoever bought it and gets handed on.

Ripa is the handstyle. Ware is the promise attached to it. A name written the way writers write names, put onto cloth built to be inherited rather than replaced.

The mark is cut nine ways for nine materials: cast in brass, embroidered in gold, fired in enamel, leafed into walnut, debossed into hide. Each one is drawn again for the thing it goes on. None of them is a resize.

5 Senses Collection

The first
hundred and fifty

One cut, three colourways, and the whole set changes with the thread. Each piece is numbered inside the collar. When a colourway is gone it is not made again.