You know how it is out there.
You’re three days into a swing, it’s already 48 degrees in the shade (not that thereisany), and your safety glasses look like they were forged from the tears of every poor soul who’s done night shift in Newman.

Started by a FIFO safety bloke who got sick of foggy specs, dusty eyes, and blokes saying “she’ll be right.”
Now we make glasses that actually survive a shutdown — and a hangover.