Inside the atelier: a day with our finishers

It is just past seven in the morning when the lights come on in the atelier. The first task is not stitching or cutting — it is sweeping. Anna, who has been with us for eleven years, says a clean bench is a clean stitch.

By eight, the cutting tables are full. Each hide is laid out and inspected under daylight. A small scar near the shoulder of the animal might rule out a panel; a faint vein along the belly might be perfect for a lining. Nothing is hurried.

Mid-morning, the bags begin to take shape. One craftsperson sees a bag from cut to final stitch — there is no assembly line. The conversation in the room is mostly about the work: a saddle stitch redone, an edge re-burnished, a piece set aside because something about it does not yet feel finished.

By late afternoon, the day's bags are lined up on a long oak table. Each is turned, weighed, opened, closed. The small, almost invisible decisions of the day are now visible only as an absence — there is nothing to draw the eye away from the leather. That, we have come to believe, is the point.