The rhythmic pull of a needle through leather, the rich scent of oak bark tannins, and the enduring tradition of craftsmanship are at the heart of Katy Warriner’s life and work. Words by Hannah Tapping.
In a small corner of Devon, Katy Warriner has carved out a unique space as a leather maker, educator and storyteller – a journey as winding and textured as the paths she’s taken to arrive here. “I’ve always been a traveller,” Katy begins, her hands busy stitching a piece of rich dark leather at her workbench. “My dad left when I was seven, and I’d travel to see him wherever he was. By the time I was 15, I had this chance to leave Cornwall and take an apprenticeship on a horse estate. I was young but I just wanted to do it.”
Her early days were spent surrounded by the quiet majesty of Surrey’s countryside, learning about horses, land management and the rhythms of estate life. “It was very D. H. Lawrence,” she jokes, “there was even a gamekeeper romance.” This deep connection to craft and the countryside set the foundation for Katy’s later work.
But the journey from Surrey to her current role was anything but linear. Katy’s life has been a tapestry of experiences: “After leaving the job in Surrey, I ended up in Central America and I lived in Guatemala for a few years. I was involved in a lot of volunteering projects there, which were amazing. I came home when I was 23, and was completely lost. I didn’t know what to do with my life and then a friend of mine got me into festivals work. My first ever festival job was standing in a car park at Beautiful Days Festival in Devon. At the end of my stint, the boss said to me, “Do you want to come and work for us full time next year?” I did, and ended up running blue gate, one of the crew gates of Glastonbury. Festivals are a universe of their own,” she explains. “It’s a place where all these misfits come together and suddenly have a purpose. It’s this bubble of creativity and belonging.”
Katy recalls the camaraderie and chaos of her festival years fondly. “You’d be in a field, living out of your truck, cooking over a fire at night. It felt like freedom, but with a safety net. The festival fence kept the chaos manageable. We didn’t really know who we were or who we were supposed to be, and somehow that weirdness manifested itself inside a fence at a festival where we could all just be weird together. It was almost like having another universe, where you can exist and no one questions who you are, or what you’re doing, or why you’re doing it, but everybody fits together. We were all outsiders in a sense, but suddenly we had a purpose and a place, a personality and a character and that was our life “Weirdly, it’s a lot like leather work – structured creativity within a framework.”
LEFT - Katy Warriner Image © Toby Strong CENTRE - Katy in her Devon workshopImage © Paul Read Photography RIGHT - Leather saddle bagImage © Paul Read Photography
Katy’s introduction to leather making came on her 30th birthday, when she treated herself to a two-day course with John Haggar at Tanner Bates in Dartington. “We made a belt on the first day and John talked a lot about J&FJ Baker & Co, the last oak bark tannery in the country. It struck a chord with me. I was fascinated by the fact they were one of the only tanneries in the country that actually uses British leather or British hides, with the oak bark sourced from Cumbria.”
“I’ve never thought of myself as creative and I really am terrible at drawing, but suddenly I found a medium that I wanted to work with”. Katy’s fascination with leather – a material steeped in tradition, durability and character – quickly became an obsession. “John gave me lots of scraps of leather that I could go home and practice with. I bought a couple of tools from him and literally practiced until my hands were bleeding. I got my first commission from a photographer who wanted a bespoke camera harness made and I haven’t looked back. Katy spent hours practicing at home, her hands blistered but determined. “I’d always known I wanted to work with leather. By the time I was 12, I’d told my mum I wanted to make saddles and bridles. This was like coming full circle.”
LEFT - Classic waist belt with vintage harness buckle RIGHT - Forager’s trugImages ©Katy Warriner
With the creation of Warriner Leather, Katy’s work now centres around bespoke commissions – from intricate horse harnesses to custom leather bags. “Each piece is personal,” she says, holding up a delicate strap she’s working on for a local client. “I source most of my leather from J&FJ Baker in Devon. The tanning process is much slower there than elsewhere, but the leather has so much more soul.” Katy is particular about her materials. “I don’t work with chrome-tanned leather,” she tells me firmly. “It’s a cheap, fast process that leaves you with a product that has no life. Vegetable tanning, on the other hand, takes months, but it creates something that lasts a lifetime. It’s about honouring the material and the craft.”
To Katy, leather work is more than a trade; it’s a form of storytelling. “Every piece has a history,” she explains. “You can see the life of the animal in the hide – the marks, the texture. And then you add your own story through the craftsmanship.” Her process is painstakingly traditional. She demonstrates the saddle stitch to me, a hand-sewn technique that’s stronger than machine stitching. “It’s all about durability,” she says. “With a saddle stitch, if one thread breaks, the rest of the seam holds. It’s labour-intensive, but worth it.” The physical toll of the work is undeniable. Katy grins as she rubs her shoulder. “I have a regular sports massage to keep me going. This job is hard on the body, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Her dedication has earned her a loyal following, from local farmers commissioning horse harnesses to high-end clients seeking bespoke bags. She’s also ventured into television work, creating leather props for film productions. As we talk, I can see that Katy has a really spiritual connection to her craft which goes beyond the physical. For her, working with leather has a meditative quality. “There’s something deeply grounding about working with your hands,” she says. “The rhythm of stitching, the feel of the leather – it connects you to something bigger. It’s a reminder of our history and our place in the world.”
This connection is evident in her workshop, a space that feels more like a sanctuary than a studio. The walls are lined with tools, many of which have been passed down or sourced from antique markets. “Each tool has its own story,” she explains, “using them feels like carrying on a legacy.” Katy’s respect for tradition is matched by her desire to innovate. “I’m always looking for ways to make my work more sustainable,” she says. “Whether it’s finding local suppliers or experimenting with vegetable dyes, I want to create pieces that honour the past while looking toward the future.”
This ethos extends beyond her craft. She’s a passionate advocate for sustainable practices and local sourcing. “We’ve lost so many of our traditional industries,” she laments. “Tanneries, wool and linen mills – they’ve disappeared in the last century. It’s heartbreaking.” Katy believes in living simply and consciously. “I always tell people to think like their grandparents. They had one pair of leather boots, one wool jumper. They repaired, reused, and respected their belongings. We’ve lost that connection.” Katy’s work is a quiet rebellion against disposable culture. “Leather boots can last a lifetime if you care for them. A leather bag becomes more beautiful with age. It’s about investing in quality, not quantity.” She’s equally vocal about education. “Activism isn’t my thing,” Katy says. “I prefer to educate. People don’t realise the impact of their choices. It’s about taking small steps – buying from a farmer’s market, choosing natural materials, supporting local craftspeople. It all adds up.”
As a member of the South West England Fibreshed – a global movement of regional initiatives that are rebuilding local, equitable textile and clothing systems based on agroecological farming and soil to soil production – Katy is proud to be a part of a community of fibre and dye growers, processors, makers and manufacturers who are reimagining how the South West can produce home-grown textiles and garments in a more healthy and resilient ecosystem.
In line with this, Katy sees herself as part of a broader movement to revive traditional crafts. “There’s a real hunger for authenticity right now,” she says. “People are tired of mass production. They want to know the story behind what they buy.” She’s committed to sharing her knowledge with others, whether through workshops or informal mentorship. “Craftsmanship is about community,” she says. “It’s about connecting with others who share your passion and passing on what you’ve learned.” Katy also collaborates with other artisans, from basket makers to potters, to create unique, interdisciplinary pieces. “There’s so much we can learn from each other,” she says. “Working together keeps the craft alive.”
LEFT - Buckland Belt, made to measure RIGHT - Forager’s mini trug
Katy’s ambitions stretch beyond her workshop. She recently completed her training as a qualified saddle and harness maker at the Saddlery Training center in Salisbury, under the watchful guidance of Master Saddler Mark Romain MBE. “I owe him everything,” says Katy, “I trained under him for four years and I am honoured and forever grateful that he was, and always be my master.” Katy dreams of earning the title of Master Saddler and Master Harness Maker herself in the future, something she is continuing to work towards. “It’s about pushing myself and preserving these skills,” she says. She’s also committed to mentoring the next generation of artisans. “Craftsmanship is a form of storytelling, and we need to pass those stories on. It’s not just about making things; it’s about connection – to history, to materials, to each other.”
Katy’s journey has been a celebration of curiosity and resilience. As we finish our conversation, Katy leans back with a satisfied smile. “At the end of the day, it’s about making something that lasts. Something that matters. That’s the beauty of it.” There’s a pause, before Katy adds, “You know, this life isn’t always easy, but it’s meaningful. When I’m working with leather, I’m not just making something functional – I’m creating a legacy, one piece at a time.” She looks at the tools on her bench, the history they hold, and smiles again. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”