Blue is all around us. For millennia, it was in the sky, in the sea, in the bluebells nodding beneath our feet, in the eyes of our children. The moon was blue above us as we danced through history, ephemeral and yet eternal. If we wanted to capture the wonder of blue in our hands we had to pound woad against the rocks, we had trek to the desert and dig for lapis lazuli with bleeding fingers, we had to pluck the wings from butterflies.

Blue was an impossible quest, a dream, a reality: all this, and more.

But what does blue mean to you now? A desktop background, a corporate uniform: blue suits, blue ties, bluebottle flies, blue t-shirts and tickets and bottled water. No wonder you sometimes feel blue.

We looked around us to see that something was wrong with the world, and we decided it was time for everything to change. Blue used to mean escape, freedom, life; now it means tyranny and drudgery, omnipresent torment. We need a way to recapture the experience of blue, without feeling trapped; we need a way to fly again.

We need bloe.

You need bloe.

In the tradition of Yves Klein's "International Klein Blue" and Persia's luminescent "Azure", we've reinvented what you thought you knew and turned it into something you could only dream of.

We've taken the worst of blue — its unyielding connection to our fleeting lives, its constrained sense of the self, of "you", its "u" — and we've replaced it with something else: a sense of the vast wideness of the universe. We've created a new colour, a colour with an "o" of expansive wonder.

We've created the future.

Bloe... take a step into something noe.