Some people collect fridge magnets. You collect dive sites. This one wears like the lid of a well-travelled trunk: four die-cut decals for Bonaire, Palau, the Red Sea and Cozumel, stacked the way stickers actually accumulate. Overlapping, mismatched, each from a different shop in a different decade.
It's a vintage scuba hoodie for the diver who keeps a logbook and can tell you the viz on the day. No pun, no diver silhouette, no dive flag. Just four real places and the quiet flex of having been to them.
Each decal is knocked out with a fat die-cut border, the outermost ink of a limited three-plate palette, so the stack reads crisp and complete on every shade. Soft and cozy with a hood for the ride back in.
The obvious buy after a trip or a new certification, the kind of self-gift that comes with a date attached. It also handles a partner or a parent who's been diving longer than you've been alive.
Log it. Wear it. Go back.
