Built like the first house on the street.

Brandon J. Sellam

"Paris taught me what a finished thing looks like. Livorno and Calabria taught me what's worth finishing. Releone is the answer I'm building between the two."

Brandon J. Sellam was born and raised in Paris — the city he still calls la ville des arts. His father, a former professional footballer, became a textile man in Le Sentier, the storied garment district where some of the most enduring names in modern fashion are made and unmade in a single season. Brandon grew up inside that rhythm. His earliest years were spent moving through the showrooms and ateliers of houses like True Religion, Sandro, and Maje — close enough to the founders, and to their families, to know them as friends rather than figures. He learned what luxury was before he learned what it cost.

His heritage is Italian on both sides — Livorno on the Tuscan coast, Calabria in the south — and the table he grew up at was the kind that runs long: oil pressed from a family grove, fish brought in that morning, conversation that outlasted the dishes. The two cities — Paris and the Italian coast — became, in time, the same idea. A standard, in glass.

At twenty-one, after a BBA in International Business and Marketing, he moved to New York. Two years later he completed a full-stack web development bootcamp at Columbia University, then an associate degree in Business Management. The combination — Parisian fashion-house instinct, Italian taste at the table, an engineer's hands, an operator's discipline — became the operating system for everything he has built since.

He started working alongside his father in the international commodities markets — energy, refined products, precious metals — and through that work earned a seat at tables he had only watched as a child. Senior partners. High-ranking political figures from the Mediterranean and the Gulf. The kind of access that doesn't appear on a CV but shapes the way a founder hears a room. Today, at thirty — Sagittarius, an engineer at heart — he keeps a calendar that bends toward two cities: St. Moritz in winter, for the Snow Polo World Cup on the frozen lake and The I.C.E. concours that sets pre-war machines on the same ice; and Monte Carlo in late spring, for the Grand Prix weekend that he treats as part holiday, part state of mind. He runs Releone from a single office in Manhattan. It is his first consumer brand. It is the first time his name will sit on a shelf. He intends to keep brokering. He intends to keep building. The two were never meant to be separate.