There’s a very thin line between a man’s dignity and the world.

It’s called a zipper.

We’ve all been there. You’re chewin’ the fat with someone, and instead of them looking you straight in the eyes (like they’re supposed to), they’re looking down. Way down. To an area you’d rather they weren’t looking at, if you get our meaning. That’s when you discover it. Lo and behold, a malfunction of the highest order. A zipper gone bad. And there you are. Exposed, for all the world to see. Now, we may have a few bats up in the old belfry, but we think this ought not to happen. Not ever. So we set about making a zipper that could withstand all the zippering a man could ever deliver without so much as flinching.