This is who “handmade” means.
Remu started in 2017 with three friends selling travel hammocks — until we realized we couldn't say who made them, where, or how. So we went and found out. Everything since has been built around the people on this page: one family-centered workshop network across the Ecuadorian Andes, paid fairly, credited by name on the label of every garment they make.
No factory. A kitchen table, scaled up.
Children playing between the machines, cousins across the room, an entire floor of a family home given to the work. This is what your jacket's three weeks actually look like.
Raquel Llumiquinga
Sofia Tipan
Carmen
Wilmer
Naty
Mario Llumiquinga
Amada Quishpe
Jessica
Anita
The Lema Family
Julio
Raquel's home studio, Miranda. The heart of Remu production for eight years — an entire floor of her home, the largest in her community, given over to the work.
Three friends and a batch of hammocks.
In the winter of 2017, Jose, Juan Xavier, and Felipe started selling Amazon travel hammocks — planting a tree for each one sold. Waiting on the first batch, they realized they couldn't answer the basic questions: who made these? Where? Under what conditions? The company that exists today is what happened when they went to find out — and decided those answers mattered more than the hammocks.
The rules we don't break.
Every garment's label credits the artisan who made it. Signed work is different work.
Our mission is for women like Raquel to be community leaders and breadwinners — households reorganize around her studio, not the other way.
When we need a new craft, we look inside Miranda first — a brother who smiths, a cousin who sews. Money stays where the work is.
Upcycled and organic fibers where possible, Tagua instead of plastic, and a tree planted in the Amazon for the hammocks that started it all.
