There are moments in life that you don't see coming.
They happen without warning, without apparent importance, and then you realize that's where it all began.
I was sixteen years old.
He lived in Alicante, he was still at the French Lyceum, and that night was like so many others.
We were having dinner at home, my mother and I, in a kitchen with an island in the middle, a part of the house that faced inward, with a warm and peaceful light.
When we created Andesites, we had no idea what we were doing.
But we did it with love.
My mother, Ana, has always had incredible energy.
She was a brand sales representative, she knew a lot of people, she had that natural knack for what works.
And I, with my head full of ideas, contributed the most creative part.
The truth is, at first, I saw it as a hobby.
I didn't think that was going to be big.
Andesites was a women's brand, and although the idea had been mine, I didn't feel a real attachment to it yet.
I liked contributing ideas, thinking of names, imagining concepts... but I didn't have the mindset of someone who thinks long-term.
I didn't think like a businessman, I thought like a dreamy kid.
My cousin Manuela was also there at that time, and she was very involved.
I spent hours and hours working, organizing, uploading things to Instagram.
My mother and she were unstoppable.
They didn't stop uploading content for a single day.
And that, over time, is what kept the flame alive.
I, on the other hand, was coming and going.
He didn't have that total commitment yet.
But something was there.
An energy.
A good intention.
And although none of us knew it yet, we were building the foundations of something that was going to last.
My mother, without realizing it, was the one who taught me, by example, what perseverance is.
She never gave up, not even when there were no results.
And that, years later, was the lesson that impacted me the most.
I remember perfectly what we were eating: vegetable soup.
A normal dinner, on any given day.
But what came next changed my life.
The following morning we were in the car, on our way to somewhere, I don't remember exactly where.
We were passing through that long roundabout that everyone in Alicante knows, when my mother looked at me and said something that I will never forget:
"What if we start a jeans brand?"
It was a spontaneous phrase, without a plan or context.
But my head exploded.
That moment, so simple, opened up a universe for me.
I started to dream and dream.
To imagine colors, textures, names, concepts.
Everything connected inside me.
I was studying Biology at that time.
I was fascinated by how life was organized: the minerals, the rocks, the natural processes.
And suddenly, everything made sense.
The jeans were like water, the washes like minerals, the fabric like earth.
They were a reflection of nature.
And there the word appeared: Andesites.
Andesite is a volcanic rock that is formed after an eruption, when the lava cools slowly.
There is no more beautiful image to describe the transformation.
Fire, pressure, time... and from all of that, something solid, resistant, and elegant is born.
I saw myself reflected in that.
And without knowing it, I was laying the first stones of what would years later become my life.
It was 2020.
He hadn't turned 17 yet.
And although I didn't know it, Andesites was born in that car, between traffic lights and thoughts.
A brand, yes, but above all a story.
A story that didn't start with a business plan, but with a conversation between a mother and son.
Over time, I realized that Andesites wasn't about clothing.
Family matter.
Everything we are comes from there.
About my grandmother Manoli and her back room.
About my grandfather Juan and his character.
From my grandfather Pepo and his ingenuity.
From my mother and her way of fighting without losing her smile.
My grandmother Manoli had a shop.
There I learned what it means to do a good job, to care about the customer, and to be dedicated.
My mother experienced it as a child, absorbed it, and passed it on to me without words.
There's no need to talk when values are breathed in.
Every detail of Andesites has something of that:
the family meal on Wednesdays,
the laughter with my cousins,
long after-dinner conversations,
honest conversations,
the little things that make life worth living.
Andesites is all about that: seeing the beauty where no one else sees it.
And that's what my family taught me.
Sometimes I think that everything I am, I learned at home.
Not in books, nor in studies, nor in travels.
At home.
In the people who taught me to respect, to be humble, to trust.
And I like to think that Andesites conveys all of that.
Because, in the end, without family you are nothing.
And if Andesites exists today, it's thanks to her.
Over time, things started to grow.
I came to Madrid to study, looking for fresh air, independence, a new life.
I wanted to escape a little from Alicante, from the memories, from the same places, from the same friends.
I had that need to start from scratch.
In Madrid, we had the offices in the same space that used to belong to my mother.
It was a dream: a beautiful, central location, full of energy.
Andesites was already moving, we had events, fellows, a team.
Everything seemed to be working.
But inside me, there was something that just wasn't quite right.
I lived in a university residence, went out, drank, did what everyone my age does.
And I don't regret it, but I do acknowledge that it wasn't right.
He was trying to fill a void that can't be filled with noise.
And in the meantime, Andesites continued to grow.
My mother worked non-stop.
I was helping out, but without that real awareness of what it meant to have a company.
He lived without understanding the responsibility behind each decision.
That stage was a mirror.
It taught me that you can be surrounded by everything and still feel empty.
And that fulfillment is not in what you have, but in what you do with meaning.
Sometimes you need to get a little lost to find yourself again.
At that point in the story, someone very important arrives: Erik Bernabéu Lau.
A friend, but more than that: one of those people who show up when you need them most.
Over time, he became someone I deeply admire.
And not just him, but also his mother, Ingrid Lau.
Both of them trusted us, my mother and me, and decided to invest in Andesites.
But more than money, they put their heart into it.
They gave us faith, support, and affection.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a new family was born.
And that's when everything changed.
I decided to get fully involved.
For the first time, I felt like I had to prove to myself that this was mine.
That Andesites wasn't just a teenage dream, but something real.
I gave myself completely.
But it wasn't easy.
Being an entrepreneur is much harder than it seems.
You need to fall to learn.
I had them all.
I lost money, time, friends.
I went through times when it seemed like everything was falling apart.
Andesites almost went bankrupt, and that's where, right there, I learned what it really means to build.
I learned not to give up, to trust even when nothing goes right, to stay calm.
To understand that all the "no's" along the way are part of the process, that the "yes's" come later, when you've earned them.
And I also learned the most important thing: that everything happens for a reason.
Nothing happens by chance.
I met Sophie, my girlfriend, at one of the latest Andesites events.
And with her, I learned another form of love: real support, the kind that comes from being there.
She has been with me through the most difficult times, when I had to rebuild myself from scratch.
From then on, everything changed.
I stopped going out, drinking, and getting distracted.
I started taking care of myself.
To train, to eat well, to rest.
To dedicate all my time to Andesites, but also to myself.
Because I understood that you can't take care of a project if you don't take care of yourself first.
That's where I discovered what it really means to mature.
Not out of obligation, but out of choice.
Leave behind what holds you back.
Betting on you.
And work with purpose.
I realized that Andesites had taught me how to love.
To appreciate, to be grateful, to understand what patience is.
And above all, to not be afraid.
To live with gratitude, even when you don't know what comes next.
I don't know where Andesites will be in ten years.
I don't know if it will grow, if it will change, if it will transform.
But I do know one thing: it has already fulfilled its purpose.
Andesites made me who I am.
He taught me what responsibility, love, and perseverance are.
He taught me to fall and get back up, to trust, to have faith.
He taught me how to live.
Today I look back and understand everything:
the "no's," the falls, the fears, the doubts.
It all made sense.
Because without that, this book, this story, or this version of me wouldn't exist.
Andesites is more than just a brand of jeans.
It's a symbol.
About family, about transformation, about love.
About a mother and a son who believed that dreams can come true if you pursue them with your heart.
My name is José Ten Verdú.
And this is not just my story.
It's the story of how Andesites taught me to be a person before being an entrepreneur.
About how love, family, and calm can turn fire into beauty.
And although I don't know what will happen next, I know that no matter what happens, Andesites will always be in me.
Because there is no brand without a soul.
And the soul of Andesites, from day one, was this:
a conversation, a family, a dream…
and the certainty that all effort, in time,
ends up finding its place.