The atelier works with a small library of leathers. Not many — perhaps six or seven finishes in regular use. Each was chosen for a specific reason. Each behaves differently on the shelf, at the cutting bench, and in the hand of the wearer.
This is a short field guide to the leathers we hold — so you know what you are choosing, and why the finest ones feel the way they do.
Lychee
A fine, close pebble grain. The name comes from the texture of the fruit — small, regular, three-dimensional. Lychee is embossed onto the leather during tanning, then re-drummed for softness. The result is a hand that feels supple but reads structured from a distance.
The atelier uses lychee on pieces that live close to the body — the Aremu messenger, the Funmilayo backpack, the Ibukun tote in patent. Lychee catches light without shining. It softens with wear but does not slouch. It is the leather that ages most gracefully in this house.
Togo
A larger, more natural pebble grain. Togo shows the character of the hide it comes from — no two panels are the same. The tannery we work with in Emilia-Romagna finishes togo with a matte topcoat that shifts under warm light.
We reserve togo for the pieces where character matters more than uniformity — the Aremu in Orange Togo, the Aremu in Green Togo. Togo photographs beautifully. In person it is the leather that people reach out and touch.
Puzzle-pattern
Our house grain. A repeating, interlocking motif embossed by hand at the atelier — pieces of a puzzle fitting into each other, ad infinitum. The motif reads as monogram from a distance and as texture up close.
The puzzle-pattern is Daniel's signature. It was developed slowly — first as a personal joke about the pieces of a life fitting together, then refined into a recurring visual across the atelier's most collected pieces: the Aremu messenger in Black Lychee, the Abimbola Jigsaw duffle, the Tomiwa Jigsaw clutch. The embossing is deep enough to catch shadow, shallow enough to keep the hand soft.
Waxed leather (the Nkari finish)
Full-grain calf finished with a natural wax at the tannery, then re-waxed by hand at the atelier. Nkari waxed brown is the house's anchor colour. The wax settles into the grain and takes on the hand of the person carrying it — the palms darken the leather where they touch, the corners darken where the bag brushes a coat.
This is the leather that ages loudest. In year one it looks almost uniform. By year three it is a portrait of the wearer's daily walk.
Patent
A high-shine glaze finished over lambskin. The atelier uses patent only for pieces where the surface is meant to catch light — the Ibukun in Black Patent, the Tinuke tail clutch, the Teniola patent mules. Patent does not soften. It stays what it is. This is not a flaw; some pieces are meant to be architectural.
Microfibre
A high-performance vegan fibre with the drape of leather and the resilience of technical fabric. The atelier uses microfibre where the wearer wants the visual weight of leather without the animal origin — the Tobi in Black Microfibre, the Bisi card holder in Black Microfibre. It is the least-explained leather in the house, and often the one that surprises patrons the most.
How to know good grain
Three tests, in order of importance:
- Touch. Good leather feels warm, not slick. If the surface is cold to the hand, the finish is plastic-heavy.
- Smell. Good leather smells of wax, cedar, or the tannery's specific finishing oils. Chemical or absent smell is a sign of over-treatment.
- Weight. Good leather has body. A hand-sized panel should feel like a hand-sized panel — not like paper, not like rubber.
Every leather in the atelier passes all three tests before it reaches the cutting bench. This is why we work with a small library. There are only so many hides in the world that meet the atelier's standard, and we would rather turn people away than compromise the leather.
— The atelier