Privacy
You hand your name and your address to a stranger, and you are right to ask what becomes of them. Here is the whole account, including the parts where the answer is nothing.
What is asked of you
Your name, your email, and where the piece should go: the country, and the address within it. The checkout asks for nothing else of its own.
If you ask about a piece rather than buy it, then your name, your email and the question itself — and nothing else. Asking is not buying, and it is not treated as the beginning of it.
That is the whole of it. Nothing is taken while you look — you may walk the length of this shop and leave nothing behind you.
The card is not ours to hold
The number never arrives here. The field you type it into belongs to Stripe and carries it straight to Stripe, so this site does not see it, does not handle it, does not keep it. What cannot reach us cannot be lost by us. The same field asks for the country the card is billed to, and in some countries its postcode; those go to Stripe with the card.
Stripe holds that data as controller in its own right, under its own privacy policy. It is named so that you know where to look, not to move the blame along: you are owed the truth about who holds what.
To what end
To take the payment, send the piece, and reach you if something about it needs saying. Nothing beyond the errand. The law calls this the performance of a contract, and the contract is the plain thing it sounds like: you paid, and something is owed you.
The record of the order and the payment is kept besides, because Spanish tax and accounting law requires it. That is a separate obligation, and not one either of us is free to set aside.
Whose hands it passes through
Stripe, which takes the payment. Vercel, which hosts the site and so serves the pages your details travel across. Resend, which carries the order or the question to the shop as an email, and so handles your name and what you wrote on its way. Google, whose mail service holds the shop's inbox, where that email is read. And the carrier that takes the parcel — Correos, or whichever service posts it — which reads your name and address off the label. Five, and all five named.
Nobody else. Your details are not sold, not handed to advertisers, not passed to any other business. There is no sixth standing behind those five — the list is short because it was kept short on purpose.
Some of them keep data in the United States, and the site's own servers run there. Each does so under the EU–US Data Privacy Framework or the European Commission's standard contractual clauses, which are the safeguards the law asks for when data leaves the European Economic Area. And a parcel bound outside the European Economic Area carries your name and address on its label to that country's post: the law allows that because there is no other way to deliver what you bought.
What is not done here
No accounts. No analytics. No advertising pixels, no tracking cookies, no mailing list.
Three things are kept, and all three are for you. Your bag is kept in your own browser, and nowhere else, until you empty it — and with it a note of your own attempts to pay, which lapses after a day, so that a declined card does not cost you your piece. While the tab is open, what you have typed is kept in it too — at the checkout, into a question that could not be sent, into the shop's search, with how far down the shop you were — so that stepping away does not cost you a retype or your place; it goes when the tab closes, and the checkout's sooner, when the order is placed. And when you go to pay, Stripe's code sets two cookies on this site — one for half an hour, one for a year — and its card field a few of its own, to tell a real buyer from a stolen card; they come back with your later visits until they run out. They are part of taking a card safely, which is why the law asks no consent for them; Stripe's privacy policy says what they hold.
Which is why you were met at the door with no banner asking your consent: there is nothing to consent to. A shop that must ask pardon on the threshold has already decided what it means to do inside.
How long it is kept
The order records, for as long as Spanish tax and accounting law demands — a term neither of us chose. Correspondence that is not part of an order record is deleted once it has done its work.
Nothing is held back on the chance that it proves useful one day. To keep a thing without a reason is only to hoard it, and what is hoarded is what is eventually lost.
What you may demand
A copy of what is held about you. Its correction. Its deletion. A limit on its use, an objection to that use, or the whole of it handed back in a form you can carry elsewhere. Write to the address above and name which.
Some of it the tax law will not let go of, and where that is so you will be told which and why. You will be answered, not put off.
If the answer does not satisfy you, take it to the Agencia Española de Protección de Datos, the Spanish data protection authority. It is your right to be dissatisfied with us in front of somebody else.
Ask for it back whenever you like. What was given in good faith is not thereby given up for good. Farewell.
Last updated 16 October 2026