Kite Buen Hombre Sunglasses

There is a particular decision everyone makes on the first morning, and almost everyone gets wrong.

You are standing at the edge of the lagoon. The glare off flat water is not like glare anywhere else — it arrives from above and again from below, off a surface behaving like a mirror, and by eleven o'clock you are squinting so hard your forehead aches. And you have two options in your bag: the good sunglasses that cost you two hundred euros, or nothing.

Most people choose nothing. They squint through the week, get a headache by day three, and put it down to the sun.

The others wear the good pair once, and then spend the session thinking about the good pair instead of about kiting — which is the worse outcome, because half the point of being here is not thinking about anything.

So we made a third option. Our own sunglasses, with our logo on the arm, deliberately priced so that losing them to the Caribbean is an anecdote rather than an incident. Thirty-five dollars. If they end up on the bottom of the lagoon, that is roughly what it costs, and you buy another pair and carry on.

That is the entire product, and the entire argument for it. On the shelf at both schools.