The Bag in Question

An Appreciation for the Uniqueness of the Truly Handmade

The past few  years the single most complimented item on any project or job site we worked on was not a drapery made from $400 / yard designer fabric, not a handmade piece of iron hardware, and definitely not a slick, motorized, app controlled roller shade system – although we built and / or installed all of the above.

It was a handmade, stiff leather bag I bought in Guatemala about 15 years ago from an open-air market in Antigua for probably about $13.  The stitching is coarse and definitely not straight; the hand scrawled template can be seen in many places on the face of the thick leather; not one of its hand-cut panels are symmetrical; it is scratched and worn (with plenty of life left) and has some sort of splatter on it I think from a lime plaster project I did earlier in the year.  And yet, from Beverly Hills to Main Street Santa Monica to Laguna Beach, this symphony of imperfection has received compliment after compliment from designers and stylish homeowner alike.  Honestly, it’s almost a given at this point.

A Brief Backstory

I actually spotted the bags on a trip a few friends and I took after graduating from UCLA.  I had probably about $500 to my name at the time, sold a surfboard on Craigslist for another $800 or so, and managed to make my way from Costa Rica to Guatemala over the course of about 3 weeks primarily riding chicken buses and using paperback books as our guide.  Not a single YouTube travel blogger was consulted.

But alas, by the time we got to Antigua, Guatemala, I’m sure I was flat broke.  But I recall seeing these bags hanging from a pop-up tent on a corner stall in an open-air market thinking to myself – damn, those are cool (I’ve always been a sucker for leather goods).  At the time, I hardly had a use for such a serious leather satchel, with no real professional job prospects lined up, so punted on the idea of buying the bag and of course regretted it.

A few years down the road, gainfully employed, I made a handful of trips back to Guatemala to explore and surf, wondering if those bags were still there.  I had a rough idea of where that market was within the grid of Antigua’s historic center, and sure enough after limited wandering, same stall, same bags.  If you’re interested, I’ll drop a Google pin as there is a strong likelihood they are in fact, still there.

The IG Post that Got me Thinking

Last summer a designer that I follow on Instagram posted a bunch of pictures from a family Euro-trip romanticizing old world weathered tile mosaics, off-kilter wooden doors, cobbled streets and narrow, winding, southern European walkways (let’s be honest, many of us are guilty of this same thing).  The observation that I made, informed by a business that makes primarily handmade, custom finished goods, is that there is a strong dissonance between our collective (modern consumers? modern American consumers? California Coastal consumers…all of the above?)  romanticizing these unique and beautiful things we encounter while traveling and what we demand and have come to expect in our daily lives.  I believe we truly celebrate the uniqueness of such handmade items, and with that, their inherent imperfections that give them character.  But we have also come to expect a uniformity and perfection that is completely counter to this aesthetic in our day to day lives.  It could be that we are just great at compartmentalizing.

A disclaimer: I struggled with the idea of writing this post as I did not want it to come off as being on a soap box and / or seemingly attempting to justify sloppy work.  So take this as observational, musing as well as recounting my own journey in this realm.  And there is often a difference between the handmade and unique vs. the shoddy.

In the case of my leather Guatemalan bag, I can attest that it does all of the below:

1.         Makes a statement about me, my personal aesthetic, and what I personally value

2.        Creates authentic conversation over and over again

3.        Allows me to relate an experience that albeit simple, has clearly affected my life

4.        Showcases something that is definitely 1 of 1

The idea of recreating this bag has occurred to me on multiple occasions.  I have a very good friend who makes handmade, high quality leather goods in Topanga and  we’ve discussed a reproduction, which would be a new twist in the tale, but would also negate a lot of the above.  Alas, we have not.

Personally, my view on the importance of the handmade has changed over the years.  If you know me (or have worked with me) you know I am at times both laid back with things that arise and yet an insane stickler for certain details.  I push our people to be good (the best, I hope), but also accept inevitabilities of the real world, the reality of learning through experience, and know that there is always the opportunity to improve. 

But in order to learn and improve, we must continue to push boundaries and come up short, at times becoming dissatisfied in order to get better.  On a personal, non-work related level, I like to restore classic vehicles when I can find the time.  I wrench and build motors, do some fabrication work, but particularly love doing body and paint work.  This requires an attention to detail that has more than once had me reworking and repainting the same fender 3 or 4 times (I don’t recommend this).  But along the way, it has both taught me an appreciation for the unique character of the given project, and also the work required to meet my own personal standard.

 The appreciation for the “story” of a given piece has crept into other parts of my life.  Whereas I used to come undone at the first ding in a new surfboard, attempting to repair it to the point of newness, I now adopt my own modified version the Japanese practice of kintsugi where ceramics are repaired with gold resin, creating a new element in the original piece that is both organic and beautiful.  Red resin repairs on a green longboard are not quite the same, but you get the point.

While we all (myself included) love the idea and allure of the handmade, the vintage, the weathered and patina’d, something in us does not always jive with lack of immediacy, lack of the readily available, and let’s be real, cost of these goods.

 Back to our work at Field Work and the creation of handmade, custom window coverings, where every decision we make is guided by an experience – there are an infinite number of materials at our disposal and we are constantly working in new combinations, putting our past experience to use to make the most informed decisions we can to create the best product we can.  This builds more experience.  Can we build it stronger, straighter, more uniform etc.  And at what point does this pursuit of perfection then start to erode the exact nature of what we do – creating handmade, 1 of 1 items?

Decision making and discussion. Real working hands handling what will become final functional product

I recently listened to an interview with Billie Eilish and Phinneas O’Connell on KCRW where Bille talked about her desire to keep her music raw in certain, intentional ways.  For example, her insistence on keeping her breaths between lyrics unedited, despite the fact that this is not the “norm” in pop music.  Her words resonated with me in many ways – an appreciation for her craft, an awareness of what makes her unique, and her ability to connect with her audience on a human level.  Yes, please.  And it works.  Personally, I don’t want any association with the vapidness of pop music.  Thanks for the reminder, Billie.

Final Thoughts

One final thing I really try to keep in mind is the need to stay relevant, embrace things like technology and not become obsolete – especially as certain clients push us in this direction.  The handmade is not for every client, and definitely not for every project.  For this we have other products with different aesthetics and different purposes.  The art of design  is then not so much the building of handmade goods, but understanding when to use what and how to balance these needs in harmony.  All while understanding that with modern product come modern problems – programming issues, connectivity, electrical failure, and all the headaches that follow. 

 But as it pertains to our handmade, custom window coverings, the goal remains distilling the work to the most simple, purest, and best version of itself it can be.

 I was raised in an environment where we worked with our hands, which even at that time felt old school.  But when I needed to start a business to provide for my soon to be growing family, those were the very skills that enabled me to create Field Work Design & Craft.  A decade plus of business experience dealing with vendors, sourcing materials, online marketing and the like helped, too.  But at our core, we create stuff with our hands for our clients.

 Like this blog post that started the same way all my writing has since I was a teenager, with a yellow pencil and a paper notebook – the same notebook you’ll likely see me on projects with (yes, Moleskin is great, but if you really wanna know what’s up, get yourself a Leuchttrum1917 – are you surprised I’m about those deep cut leather notebooks?), we will continue to work with our process, work with our hands, create quality, handmade goods and refine our process.  Thanks for another great year.