Casablanca, September 2025
It began with a pair made for myself.
Some brands begin with a business plan. Before travelling from Casablanca to New York, I made a deeply cut Grecian loafer simply for the pleasure of wearing something I loved. I did not know it yet, but that pair was the beginning of Shed Stoune.
Discover the first pair
Deeply cut. Deliberately personal.
Made for the pleasure of wearing it
In September 2025, I was preparing to present my footwear brand Contre-Allée at Coterie during New York Fashion Week. Before leaving Morocco, I made myself a pair of Grecian loafers in leopard-print hair-on leather.
I had always been drawn to this shape: a deeply cut silhouette that reveals the foot and creates a natural connection between the hem of a trouser and the beginning of a shoe. It sits somewhere between a men’s loafer and a ballet flat. Some people love it and others absolutely do not. Perfect. The best design was never meant to convince everyone.
The first requests.
“I want a pair.”
Before the journey, I showed the shoes to my friend, the artist Mark Maggiori. His response was immediate: “I want a pair.”
After Coterie, my wife and I spent time exploring Brooklyn. Outside a vintage shop, a man on a bicycle stopped to compliment the shoes. He was Nick, owner of Nick & Sons Bakery, and he asked where he could buy them. Nick ordered two pairs—one in leopard and one in black suede. That encounter made me realise the shoe could become something beyond the pair on my feet.
Refined through conversation.
Back to the workshop
When I returned to Casablanca, I began making the first pairs with my artisans. The workshop was already devoted to Contre-Allée and its handwoven raffia shoes and bags. Leopard-print hair-on leather was difficult to find, but slowly the new form took shape. One pair travelled to Arizona. Two more went to Brooklyn.
The pair for Mark became a creative dialogue. Together we refined the proportions, the depth of the silhouette, the leather sole and the slightly angled heel inspired by classic Western boots. Somewhere in those conversations, the shoe quietly became a brand.
A city of makers and discoveries.
A feeling, and a place to make
In Moroccan Arabic, Shed Stoune is slang for enjoying life, carrying good energy and being completely yourself. In English, “shed” happened to fit too: a workshop, a place where things are made slowly, properly and by hand.
Casablanca is both. I ride my motorcycle through the city looking for textures, meeting craftsmen, touching leathers and finding colours or prints that may exist only once. One hide might make fifty pairs; another might make five. When a material is gone, that chapter closes. Leopard became our signature almost by accident—not as something loud, but as a way of giving personality to a timeless shape.
Made to become yours.
Made to become yours
My grandmother was a seamstress in post-Protectorate Casablanca, making bespoke clothing for women. Long before I designed shoes, I grew up around measurements, fabrics, patience and detail. Perhaps that is where everything really began.
To me, elegance is not a dress code. It is the way you wear what you choose. A pair can live with vintage military trousers, raw denim, made-to-measure suits, shorts, workwear or black tie. If we are lucky, our shoes will not look their best on the day they are bought. They will look their best years later—scuffed, travelled in, broken in and loved. The finest shoes do not simply become old. They become yours.