The House.

Annie's letter.

Vala Blanca started with a pair of brown boots.

They belonged to my paternal grandmother. When she passed away, they were the only thing that brought her back to me. I wore them until I understood that a shoe can be a way to not lose someone.

Today, I design with my maternal grandmother, who is still with us, and who chooses the leather with me.

This brand belongs to both of us.

And if you walk with us, it's yours too.

— Annie.

 

The two grandmothers.

Before the brand, there were two women. One left. The other is still here.

Both taught me how to walk.

 

The craft.

Humberto. The hands that cut, sew, polish. Each pair passes through his fingers.

Concepción. Weaver. Her slippers are handmade hugs.

Alfredo. Leather hunter. He finds what we don't even know we need yet.

Mariana. Voice of the house. She answers every message.

 

Why wait.

Each pair is handmade by people we know. That takes time. Waiting is part of having something that was truly made for you.

 

Manifesto.

Slowly. By hand. In Mexico. For women who already know who they are. Vala Blanca. Made to be inherited.