Manifesto
We live in an increasingly transient and ephemeral world. A world where everything lasts for five seconds. Our electronics, our furniture, our fashions are all designed for intentional obsolescence. Made to be consumed instantly and then immediately cast aside as we move on to the next shiny bauble. We're devolving into a swarm of human locusts, blindly devouring everything in our path before frenetically moving on to the next.
All of it lacks substance. It lacks depth. It’s a superficial world of candy coating, plastic shells and thin veneer. From our electronics, to our furniture, to our political candidates. All of it meant for rapid consumption and quick disposal. Devoured in 140 characters, then discarded. There's no permanence. No quality. Nothing made to last. The mindless wheel of consumption and the profligate waste that accompanies it.
The consequence is that we don't become attached to anything. We simply throw it away when it bores us or breaks. And we bore easily. When it breaks, there is always something newer, better. Few of the objects in our contemporary lives last long enough to acquire any meaning, or personal value.
To put it in tactile terms, think of the things you cherish from your grandparents. A pocket watch. A heavy oak chest. A thick wool overcoat. Now ask yourself what objects you have today will endure long enough to be cherished. Your plastic toaster? Your shitty glue and particle board furniture assembled with plastic screws from a Swedish sawdust factory?
I reject this.
I create products that are meant to last lifetimes. Plural. They are built to last forever. Made to be a canvas of your stories through years. Through generations. A bag or belt that will bear the scars of a life lived beyond chasing the latest trinket. An item, that, however small, will be cherished – not because it stays perfect, but because it ages with you. A witness to the tapestry of your life.
My goods aren't meant to be consumed. They are decidedly anti trend. They reject the revolving door consumer purchase cycle. They reject "seasons”, "collections", “trends” or any other hyper sensational, bullshit, sales tactic.
They are, perhaps, even anti-fashion.
So if you want to buy them to be cool, or because you think they're trendy - don’t. If you intend to cast them aside for next season’s newest - please, take your business elsewhere.
Because I believe that true design is timeless not trendy.
Because I believe in showcasing the inherent natural beauty of leather that has been made the same way for 130 years.
Because I’m only interested in creating goods that will endure.
Because I believe you should accumulate more stories and fewer things.
And, to go one step further, I hope you never actually buy my products either.
What?
My ultimate hope is that you decide to make something yourself.
I want you to experience what it’s like to create instead of consume. To make things instead of buy things. To put something into the world that you can be proud of.
Go out and find yourself a nice sheet of leather, chunk of wood, or any raw material, and with a few simple tools shape it into a useful object. Spend the time to make something of quality, and you’ll it cherish for a lifetime – not because it’s perfect, but because it’s an extension of your own expression. Even if only for a small item, for a brief moment, remove yourself from the turgid cycle of blind consumerism and ritualistic consumption. Delight in the unique pleasure and tactile pride that comes from creating something with your hands.
Relish the magic of creation.
But if you can’t make something (and that’s okay) you still have the next best choice - with me. You can choose to buy something that will last. Something made by a person. Something that bears the mark of the hands that made it, the marks of a craftsman. An item that was designed not only to last, but to improve with age. You can opt for a life of consequence. The aesthetic of purpose.
Because when you buy something I’ve made, I ask for more than your money...
I ask for your commitment.