Our New Collection
More than a year ago, I made the difficult decision to hit pause and close the shop for a while to focus on other priorities. But behind the scenes, for almost two years now, I’ve been slowly chipping away at a new collection in whatever spare time I could carve out.
It all began with a simple concept: the modern shtetl. It was a phrase I used in jest off the cuff, but it lingered. Historically, the shtetl wasn’t a place you chose to be. But more than a century after my family left the shtetl, it seems we’ve built a new one—this time by choice. We choose to be close to friends and family, close to a Jewish school, and close to a genuinely good bagel place.
That was the breadcrumb that led me down this path. But much like a ten-year journey to complete a Bachelor of Arts, I got distracted by shiny objects and heavy obligations, which slowed things down. Two of those paths are clearly reflected in this new collection, which I’ll call Landsman and Ladino.
We’ve finally reached the destination, though, and looking at this board, I think it was worth the wait. Before we head to production, we want to hear from you. So please, let us know what we got right, what we got wrong and anything else you're willing to share. You can email Shae at info@schleplocal.ca or, if you wouldn't mind, fill out the feedback form here: https://forms.gle/bYeCX6sQUGeatc756
Descendant of Wretched Refuse & Republic of Exiles: Emma Lazarus, a Sephardic Jewish writer, penned the famous poem that sits on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. The phrase "wretched refuse" was exactly how the old European empires viewed the people fleeing their borders. But the immigrants who arrived on these shores built a "Republic of Exiles" out of nothing. These graphics are meant to honour the generations that came before us, that were undeterred by the insults and kept looking forward - to the possibilities and potential of those that would follow.
Modern Shtetl (Strength in Numbers): So many pieces of this collection look backwards. But the shtetl isn’t just a ghetto we were forced to live in at another time and in another place. The modern shtetl is a place we choose to live, where we can feel less alone. Because even today, the old ethos of "strength in numbers" still applies.
Original Spadina Schmatte & Garment Co: The “schmatte” business was a lifeline for so many of the Jewish immigrants that came to Canada in the early 1900s, including my own family, and in Toronto, its heart was on Spadina Avenue. This design is a nod to the thousands of immigrant tailors who built their lives working the heavy sewing machines in those red brick buildings.
The North End Dry Goods (Winnipeg): Winnipeg’s North End was composed of tough, working-class neighbourhoods. But those neighbourhoods absorbed the shock of the new world and it was on those streets that many great businesses were built on little more than blood, sweat and determination. The "52-488" at the bottom isn't just a serial number - it's the actual phone number of Segals Bakery at 514 Selkirk Avenue.
Amalgamated Landsman Aid Society: Before there were government safety nets, all our community had was each other. The Landsmanshaften were mutual aid societies formed by people from the same shtetls who pooled their resources to take care of their own. This design is a tribute to the people who made sure the newest arrivals didn't have to face the freezing winters or the factory floors alone.
Mandel's Creamery (Toronto): In my early days in Toronto, I was surprised to see Hebrew letters on a window of a cafe near Kensington Market. The Yiddish words “butter, cheese, cream and eggs” and “every day fresh” were among the last pieces of evidence of the neighbourhood’s Jewish past. This design is meant to honour Mandel’s Creamery, which occupied the space nearly a century ago.
YMHA (Mens Sana In Corpore Sano): The YMHA was a symbol of the Jewish experience in Canada. They were built to toughen up a generation that was routinely told they didn't belong but served a range of purposes, focused on nurturing a sound mind in a sound body.
Fletcher's Field (Montreal): In the heart of Jewish Montreal, Fletcher’s Field was the center of gravity for working-class Jewish kids—the place where the community athletic leagues battled it out on the dirt and grass. This crest is a tribute to that specific, gritty Montreal history and the amateur sports syndicates that gave the Plateau a sense of pride.
Ladino Crypto & Calladitos: The ultimate survival tactic during the Spanish Inquisition was to become a "Crypto-Jew"—practicing in absolute secrecy behind closed doors while blending perfectly into the dominant culture outside. Calladitos literally means "the quiet ones." These designs celebrate the stubborn resilience of keeping your head down, doing the work, and surviving by remaining unseen.
Cultura Clandestina (desde 1492): For centuries after their 1492 expulsion from Spain, Jewish families kept their heritage alive in total secrecy behind closed doors, passing down traditions in whispers. This piece is a tribute to that quiet, stubborn survival—the idea that some identities are too deeply rooted to ever be fully erased.
Sin Ojo: You didn't brag too loudly, you didn't draw unnecessary attention to your success, and you kept a Hamsa nearby just in case. In Ashkenazi culture, “keyn aynhoreh” is an oft-repeated phrase used to say “god forbid,” to guard against bad luck. But what it really means is “no evil eye.” It’s a superstitious phrase meant to ward off bad luck. Sin ojo is the Ladino equivalent, translating to “no eye.”
Ojos Tienen Ma No Ven: A Ladino proverb, “ojos tienen ma no ven” means “they have eyes but do not see.” For the Jews hiding in plain sight, it was a metaphor for their survival tactics. In parts of Portugal, it was common to hang pork sausage in the window to cure in order to eat through winter. For Jews, not hanging sausages was a tell. So the Jews of Mirandela developed a recipe, now called “alheira,” for a sausage that was mostly bread and chicken, that they could hang in their windows. Hiding in plain sight.
De Los Muestros: In the days of the Inquisition, when it was dangerous to be discovered as Jewish, there was a Ladino saying - "de los muestros," which translates to "one of our own.” It was a Shibboleth - a code to indicate that other Jews could trust that they were not alone. It’s a quiet, subtle nod of recognition between people who share the same unspoken history.
Mellah Made: So much of North American diaspora history focuses heavily on Eastern Europe, but the Sephardic and North African stories are just as deep and vital to who we are. The "Mellah" was the historic Jewish quarter in Moroccan cities—places of intense community, hustle, and resilience. This graphic is designed to look like a raw, bureaucratic shipping or passport stamp, honoring that specific North African grit.