I’ve worked with leather for years, the way it behaves, its weight, its scent, its incredible tactile presence. There’s a sophistication it brings to clothing that no synthetic alternative has ever been able to reproduce. Leather breathes, it molds to the body, it ages beautifully, it tells a story.

Yet I’m fully conscious of the animals behind it. I’m an animal lover, and I could never justify using a material that causes harm for the sake of fashion. That’s why I work only with leather sourced as a byproduct of the food industry, skins that would otherwise go to waste. For me, this is not a compromise; it’s an ethical choice. Reusing what already exists honors the material and respects the life that preceded it.

If one day the world stopped eating meat, I would stop using leather entirely. But as long as this byproduct remains, transforming it into something lasting feels deeply responsible, a way to close the circle.

And unlike most industrial “alternatives,” leather is biodegradable. It returns to the earth, not to landfill. That’s the quiet power of a natural material: it lives, it ages, and then it goes back.

To wear it is to feel that truth on your skin — soft, imperfect, undeniably real.