This book is the single source of truth for Écurie. It is a living document, not a PDF: it is versioned, and the version you are reading is stated on the cover. Read the strategy before the visual rules — almost every rule here follows from something decided in it. Anything not covered: ask before inventing. A gap is a question, never a licence.

Branded house. Écurie is the label; drops are named after the place the campaign was shot, and nothing is sub-branded.

Made on a riding last, because a boot that fails in the saddle fails everywhere. Saddle leather from a ninety-year-old tannery, brass cast from the horseshoe, soles that come off and go back on. Nothing is styled to look equestrian; it is equestrian, and then it is worn to dinner.

The label is Écurie, always with the accent: the drawn wordmark when it is the mark, Écurie in running text. Products take stable words: Box, Tack, Halter, Yard. Never Écurie Equestrian, never ÉCURIE® in copy.

2026 — the label, the first drop, the stable store with the repair bench in the middle. 2028 — a Paris stockist and a night campaign shot in a city nobody expects. 2031 — a resale channel for boots that have already been resoled twice.

Every product is described in the same order: what it is · the leather and the last · what it does in the saddle · what can be resoled or repaired · what it costs. Never a heritage story before the object.

A store in a former stable, a repair bench in the middle of it, and a horse in the yard on Saturdays.

Equestrian brands sell tradition to people who ride, and fashion borrows the horse as a print. Nobody makes the real thing for people who find the horse strange and beautiful. Écurie is Swedish for hoof, and for a royal court. The gear comes from the stable; the pictures put the horse where it should not be — a tower block, a living room, a swamp at night — and the strangeness is the point.

Do write in short lines. Do put the horse where it should not be. Don't show a rosette, a trophy or a paddock fence.

Solid, cut from a single shape, like tack hardware.

Direct flash at night or deep blue hour, 35mm grain. A real horse in the wrong place: tower blocks, a 1970s living room, a swamp, the roof of a car. One impossible detail per frame, otherwise documentary.

Saddle leather, waxed cotton, brass, wool melton.

Full bleed. Photographs take the whole screen; type sits in the corner at poster scale.

A fast cut, then stillness. Like a flash going off.

Black site, one flash photograph per screen, the name marked in the corner. The repair booking sits next to the product.

The running horse woven or embroidered small, never printed. The wordmark only on paper and painted surfaces, always in dusk orange on midnight. One mark per object.

Painted timber stable doors in midnight blue with the wordmark hand-painted in dusk orange. Brass hardware. Lit at night by one hard light, never backlit.