Cruising along U.S. 1, Ken Kobrick pulled into Colony Tire to talk rubber and show off his latest handbags.

The technicians were impressed. They, after all, know the material.

'"Hey, that's an RSG-75 Goodyear tube,'" Kobrick recalled one man saying.

He was dead on and Kobrick was in with another area tire shop willing to hand over its used truck and tractor inner tubes in the name of eco-friendly fashion.

"They were just fascinated we took these nasty things that they just throw away and we're making something cool out of them," Kobrick said.

Making purses reduces the potential environmental impact of discarded rubber, which is difficult and costly to break down. Colony Tire alignment technician Wayne Martell couldn't say how much Kobrick saved the business. But Martell did know what it might cost him. He has an 18-year-old niece with eclectic taste who already wants one of the $130 to $160 bags, each of which bears the distinct markings of the inner tube's manufacturer.

That Kobrick and fiancee Angela Greene embraced the history of the bags is part of their appeal, said Debra Jamieson, manager of the Tandy Leather Factory, a supplier for the couple. "They're not looking for the perfect product; they're reusing the imperfections."

Under the name Passchal Products, Kobrick, a welder, and Greene, an inventor, turn gunky, cumbersome inner tubes - they weigh up to 25 pounds empty - into lightweight purses with simple lines.

Smooth grain and embossed leather trims add punch. Inside, modern print linings get the spotlight thanks to a lighting system that activates when the bags are opened. The bags are waterproof, stain-resistant and guaranteed for life.

"Every single one of them is different," Kobrick said. "They're like fingerprints."

Deciding to make a "green" imprint on the accessories market was logical, because Kobrick and Greene are committed to recycling. Creating the bags, however, has been a bumper car ride for Kobrick and Greene.

But what they lack in experience is trumped by an abundance of heart and grit.

That has endeared the couple to a cadre of suppliers, industry trend-watchers and an eco-stylist to the stars. The relationships have helped the home-based business find its niche in the burgeoning eco-lifestyles industry.

"The funny thing is that about 10 years ago, just recycling cans was considered something only Boy Scouts did to raise money for a field trip or something," wrote environmental activist and eco-stylist Danny Seo via e-mail from Pennsylvania. "Nobody recycled. Today, it's the other way around. If you don't recycle, people look down on you."

Seo, 28, an advocate for environmentally friendly products and lifestyle choices, will feature Passchal totes at the Fashion Week ReTreat in New York in September.

Seo will host the event for supermodels and other celebrities and the media attending Olympus Fashion Week in an effort to promote fashion items with an environmental bent.

The price of admission is an old cell phone, which will be recycled.

"I love the idea of taking a mundane object, like rubber, and making it sing as a beautiful item. It's unexpected, eclectic and original," wrote Seo, a spokesman for Call2Recycle, the nonprofit cell phone and rechargeable battery recycling organization.

Passchal purses have gotten around since they bounced onto the scene when the business launched in May 2004. The purses landed in the celebrity goody bags at last year's Billboard Music Awards and popped up last month on Fiji TV, Japan's equivalent of NBC's "Today" show.

Getting the bags to market has had its ups and downs. "The first ones are so horrible, we can't believe anybody bought them," Greene said of the drab bags.

"The simple lines of the bags were so hot. I guess I was attracted to that," said Pamela Bowman, who owns several boutiques in Chandler, Ariz., and was Passchal Products' first buyer.

Bowman, now a sales rep, marketing coordinator for Passchal and a regular buyer, said the simple lines and shapes stood out in a sea of over-accessorized handbags.

Early Passchal versions, inspired by a recycled rubber bag Greene bought in the '90s, had rubber trim and side panels. The all-rubber design weighted the purses like bricks. Switching to leather lightened the load and opened the door to color. But the couple, who limit their intake of animal products, agonized over using leather. "But we have made sure the leather we use is from a food source," Greene said.

The manufacturing process takes place on 1 1/2 acres where piles of inner tubes fill an old tractor barn. Greene and Kobrick heave the deflated rubber rounds, which are 7 feet in diameter, into a double utility sink.

The tubes soak for two days in an environmentally friendly solution to wash away dirt and scum. Then they sit overnight in another solution to obliterate a reek akin to that of rotting eggs.

Purged of their stench, the inner tubes dry on a large metal rack that turns the tidy plot into a set from TV's classic junkyard.

"It looks like 'Sanford and Son,'" Greene joked.

The couple's infectious laughter is a familiar hum in the tiny five-room rancher overtaken by the couple's business. An organized kaleidoscope of production essentials crams the den. Two 250-pound industrial sewing machines sit cattycorner at the foot of the couple's bed. The credit card processing machine does its duty next to the kitchen toaster.

Kobrick, a Chicago native, is the detail man, the company face many see around town. Greene was born in Richmond, grew up in Ohio and returned here in 1974.

An obsession with long hair led her to invent extensions that satisfied her desire for massive tresses like those of singer Crystal Gayle. While Greene said she loved the independence of supporting herself for 15 years, she hated doing other people's hair.

"Experience comes from failure and failure comes from trying," said Greene. "It's made me more determined to succeed at what it is I'm doing now. When I have a passion for something, I have to follow through with it," she added.

"Working from home, we constantly hear about everything on TV. We know how much disposable junk is out there," said Kobrick, a member of the Brandermill chapter of Business Network International. "If we get big and we have our bags all over, we can collect even more inner tubes and make a bigger impact."

Penelope M. Carrington is a staff writer for the Richmond Times-Dispatch in Virginia