The story of our journey to find ethical leather starts with a bout of headaches and a trip to Kyrgyzstan.
In the rush of today's fast-paced consumption world, where profits overshadow caring for nature and doing what's right, we set off on a different path. Our journey took us to Kyrgyzstan's wild heart, where old traditions and the land come together, showing us a way to work in balance with nature.
The issue was clear and unsettling. The leather industry, tied closely to high-ouput meat production. Where cattle is confined in tight spaces, rarely seeing the light of the day, or even green pastures. This approach results in leather that is weak and unsustainable (needless to say, ethically troubling).
Our struggle took us across maps and through books in search of a place where leather could be sourced in balance with nature, where cattle roamed free and their lives were respected. We were drawn to Mongolia's vast plains. But finding the right partners was hard, and our need for vegetable tanning and buying hides directly from local herders faced pushback. After two years of trials, samples and debates that led nowhere, we nearly gave up.
Then, we found ourselves in Kyrgyzstan (for a very different reason, but more about that later). Surrounded by its beautiful nature and welcoming people, we found partners and friends who saw things our way. The Kyrgyz nomads had a different approach to life, living closely with nature. Their cows wandered freely, and when the time came, usually before winter when meat supply is needed the most, they put them down with respect. When this happens, nothing goes to waste except for the leather, which is often thrown away to decompose or burn because no tanning factories are around.
We began venturing to a small community of herders near Lake Song-Kul, setting up a groundwork for exporting their hides for vegetable tanning (which can stand as a story on its own; nothing is easy with the logistics of raw lather hides). This finding was a turning point. We found our leather—a true product of nomadic ways of living, and after running a sample batch in our Italian tannery, we understood that each skin tells the story of survival, harsh climate and nature, making each skin strong and unique.
This venture goes beyond finding a better source of leather. It's about believing that there are ways of balance with nature that we often ignore. It reminds us that sometimes, the best solutions aren't new inventions but rediscovering old knowledge and ways of life.
This steadfast refusal to compromise taught us valuable lessons in patience, comradery, communication, and planning. It also sets a stage to go beyond; the next step is building a tannery in Kyrgyzstan, eliminating the transportation bottleneck, and allowing every nomadic herder to process leather hides.
The Kyrgyz vegetable tanning factory marks our next chapter—a story we are proud to be part of.
