A stereotype perhaps, but the story of hide industrie begins like many others that involve men.
Hubris. Verbalised: “Okay, I could so make that. How hard could it be?”
I can’t remember the fateful item clad in leather that started me on this journey, but that’s how it started.
A few YouTube clips were viewed, and through the grainy badly edited 320×240 resolution, the mission was clear: To begin making my own leather goods. I became ever indignant of Italian leather houses that were plainly gouging us of our hard earned money.
When the fog arose, the reality was of course different. It took me a good year before I made *anything* that I was remotely satisfied with. When each hole for each stitch is hand pricked and punched, the chances of a misstep are pretty large, and naturally I gamely stepped into the abyss more than a few times. Early attempts featured stitches that were more than slightly uneven, or burnished badly or badly formed and thus functioned badly. A different course was clearly needed.
I ordered more tools, this time Japanese in origin, convinced that it was the lack of proper tools that held back my innate abilities.
It was a bit of that, but more so the dire lack of experience. (Ze Gods of Vuitton, I recant) Over time, things started to fall into place a bit more. Items started to have less of a ‘handmade in a shed without lighting’ sort of chic. I sold my first camera strap. Then another. People started to look me up to ask if I could ‘repair this belt’ Oh fuck off. A case was sold, more straps, a camera bag etc.
There are lots to learn still naturally. But it has been a great experience. Therapeutic mostly, murderous at others.