ACCOMPANY

Decades ago, skateboarding was a sport of back alleys and abandoned pools. Today, in many ways, it’s one of Chelsea galleries and critic’s circles. Over the last several years, artists like Damien Hirst and Robert Longo have collaborated with brands like Supreme, tacking four-figure price tags on decks baring their signature marks, often clear reproductions of their most famous work.

Conversely, brands like Brooklyn-based Along have found something of a sweet spot. Since opening its doors in 2011, Along has focused on creating limited-edition surfboards and skateboards by hand, coupling sustainable materials with designs from artists who share their passion for the natural world—less commercial, but equally beautiful. “Along is a kind project trying to give back to nature what nature gives to us,” says founder David Lopez. “That’s why we produce boards with sustainable materials and old-school techniques, always referring to the roots in surf and skate.”

In an era all but defined by æstheticism and consumerism, standing out as a new designer can be near-impossible. “Causesumerism”—products that you feel good about buying because proceeds are donated to a cause—is an increasingly popular route. Skeptics may criticize a company’s alliance with a foundation as simply a marketing tool, but whatever the motive, millions of people—whether through Lauren Bush’s FEED project or TOMS’ “One for One” mission—benefit from the sale of these goods. And what’s wrong with that?

Minimalist painter-turned-amplifier designer Don Garber will not only blow you away with the sonic experience of his brand, Fi, but his amps are sure to please the eye as well.

It was in college that Don Garber heard a homemade audio system that changed everything for him. It was quite simple, he says. “It sounded like real music.”

Last month, Vanessa Traina and Morgan Wendleborn launched The Line, an online boutique of carefully-curated luxury fashion, home, and beauty products. Having both worked as stylists, the pair share an inclination to edit. And so The Line “stems from the desire to pare back, strip down, and pull together,” as the mission statement reads. It is the expression of their search for the refined and timeless.

London-born Anna Karlin might argue that her transition from digital to industrial design was no transition at all, save for one particular caveat: “When you become your own client, you can push the lim- its,” she says. “If I didn’t design something from inception, rather than responding solely to client briefs, I knew I was going to feel dissatisfied.”

As the web has flooded itself with flash sales and coupons, one-off deals and questionably low prices, the online market has come to resemble something of a digital Canal Street, where everything is a cheap alternative to its original self. L’ArcoBaleno, which launched earlier this year, is the extreme nonconformist, and refreshingly so—the Biennale des Antiquaires of the Internet, where fine design and rich content formally meet.

Maiyet’s new brand of luxury returns to classic ideals of quality—combining artisanal handcraftsmanship with high-end design—yet approaches it from a modern angle that is global and socially-conscious. “While the pattern [design], cutting, and sewing happen in New York,” says Kristy Caylor, cofounder, president, and creative director, “a single blazer might have hand-woven silk from Varanasi, an Italian lining, and handmade buttons from Indonesia or Mexico.” Other elements include hand-cast jewelry from Kenya, hand-block prints from Jaipur, and Peruvian handmade knits.

Peter Huynh is a triple threat: skateboarder, fashion designer, and film director. The Elmhurst, Queens, native was given his first skateboard at thirteen—a hand-me-down from an older kid in his neighborhood, one of the few who took up skating instead of drug dealing.

When Evans Wadongo was a child growing up in rural Kenya, he spent many hours crowding around his family’s single kerosene lamps, sharing its wan light—and its noxious fumes—with his four older brothers as he studied his textbooks. Kerosene lamps are notoriously unhealthy, both for the people who use them and the environment, and things were no different for Wadongo, whose eyesight was permanently damaged by the poisonous gases. That personal experience led to his development, in 2004 as a freshman in college, of the MwangaBora solar lamp, which is built from fifty percent recycled materials and is the first African-designed and -produced solar lamp available. “Many of my childhood friends dropped out of school, and I always wanted to do something in a simple way to help out,” he explains. “The key driving force was education—the desire to see more children in poor rural backgrounds compete effectively with their counterparts in towns and cities.”