Earn
your ink.

The tilted-square badge, screen-printed mid-chest. Cream on darks; ink or teal on bone.

Just the tall gothic monogram, nothing to hide behind. Quiet from across the park, loud up close.

The Squid Ink wordmark, tail and all, across the chest. It says the name so you don't have to.

One knit, six ways to wear the mark. For drizzle season, which out here is most seasons.

The monogram knocked out of one big splat, with “Earn your ink.” underneath. Four colours.

Squid Ink in blackletter with tentacle scrolls behind the letters. Four colours.

A small splotch on the chest. On the back, six tentacles rise from a pool of ink holding the Squid Ink wordmark. Three colours.

Six stiff panels, the tall monogram stitched front and centre. Seven colours. Holds its shape through slams, drizzle and being sat on in the van.

A brim all the way round, because drizzle comes from every direction out here.

Big mark on the back, so the crowd at the bottom of the stairs knows who just stuck it. Or who just ate it.

For days that start at 9°C and never commit. The wordmark runs down the sleeve, so it's the first thing they see when you wave.

Zip it up for the session, unzip it after the slam. Small monogram on the chest and room to layer underneath.

Boxy, short and unbothered. Short sleeves, a drawcord hood and the compact lockup mid-chest.

A fitted ringer with the Squid Ink wordmark across the chest. Small tee, big signature.

A drop-shoulder crewneck in kelp olive. Throws on over anything and matches the forecast.

For the smallest shredders. Badge on the chest, kangaroo pocket for snacks and spare bearings.

The badge with the squid tucked inside, sized for groms. Weird starts young.

Six die-cut vinyl marks for boards, helmets and the inside of your locker. Not the bathroom wall.

Heavy canvas for shoes, a spare toque and whatever weird thing you found on the beach.

Two board-carry straps up front, so your board rides along for the walk of shame back up the hill.

Flap down, snap shut, drizzle out. Phone, keys and lip balm stay dry; the lockup stays loud.

A long wallet on a chain, because your wallet should survive the slam too.

Slim enough to forget it's in your back pocket, right up until you need bus fare home after the slam.

Matte black buckle, heavy webbing and a leather tab with the monogram pressed in. Holds up baggy pants and strong opinions.

Four woven patches with merrow edges. Sew them on, iron them on, mark your territory.

A soft PVC badge on a split ring, so your keys stay as loud as you do.