Me and My Workshop
I’m Selena Rybakova, a Ukrainian leather artisan. I create handcrafted leather pieces slowly, thoughtfully, and by hand. Each design is tested through everyday use before it reaches you. This is where materials speak, objects are born, and making is a craft, not a performance.
Who I am
I have been a handmade leather maker and leather artisan since 2018, but my life has always been connected to making things.
I spent my childhood in my father’s one-person workshop, where he carved bone, worked with stones, made jewelry, and even experimented with leather. Those early years taught me patience, attention to detail, and a love for working with my hands.
Life took me far from traditional craftsmanship: I studied mathematics, worked for nearly 25 years in advertising, and yet the desire to create something tangible never left me.
When it was time for a change, I returned to my hands-on roots and chose small-batch leather production. Leather became the material that truly felt like mine — natural, warm, durable, and alive. Working with it by hand allows me to craft pieces that I love and that bring me joy.
Over the past eight years, I have grown my craft step by step: formal learning, years of independent practice, mistakes, observation, conversations with experienced makers, books, and quiet attention. I focus on hand-stitching leather, thoughtful design, and meticulous care at every stage of production.
I hope you enjoy my creations.
Material
Every piece of leather is different. It has its own character, density, flexibility, limitations, and possibilities. I do not force form onto the material. I look for the form together with it.
I work with carefully selected deadstock leather from Italian factories that produce for luxury brands. These hides were rejected due to minor visual imperfections, yet their quality remains exceptional. For me, this is not a compromise, but a conscious choice: less waste, more meaning.
Three hundred years ago, working with leather was simple: you killed a cow, skinned it, ate the meat, and turned the hide into boots for yourself and your neighbor. Today, the number of tanning and finishing methods is practically infinite. Modern technologies allow beauty and comfort to enter our lives — but they also allow unscrupulous producers to label mixtures of fabric, leather waste, and plastic as “eco-leather,” “genuine leather,” “vegan leather,” and so on. Without special knowledge and tools, it’s often impossible to tell real leather from fake.
In my work, I focus first and foremost on using real leather. Everything else — vegetable-tanned, chrome-tanned, semi-chrome tanned; full-grain, top-grain, suede, nubuck, saffiano; cow, calf, goat; smooth, textured, embossed — I choose depending on the task, the beauty of the material, the direction of the wind that day, and the client’s wishes.
The Workshop
My workshop is a reflection of its owner. It’s nothing like the studios you see on YouTube or the polished posts about leathercraft on social media — TikTok makes it look like workshops exist on another planet.
For the past four years, I’ve worked in a small corner of a room: a table, a chest of drawers, an IKEA shelf for hardware and supplies, and a space under the bed for leather. That’s it. Life shaped it this way. I hope it will change soon, but the size of the space doesn’t affect the quality of the work — the maker matters most.
I always dream of new, shiny tools, but in reality, I rely on a few essentials: a hammer, a knife, an awl, needles, threads, wax, a rubber for cleaning leather, and a handful of other practical items. Over the years, I’ve learned that no matter how good a tool is, in the wrong hands it’s just a piece of metal — even a beautiful one.
When I’m not working, my table is tidy. When I am, it becomes a little chaotic — nearly every tool ends up on the surface, and sometimes the kitchen crew runs over to see what’s happening.
What makes my workshop truly mine is each object within it. I’ve chosen it, I use it, I love it, and it helps me create. Here, ideas turn into objects, and the real work begins.
Process
New projects come to life in a few different ways. Sometimes I see a design or a solution I want to try immediately. Sometimes I realize that a piece I’ve been using needs fixing or just doesn’t work — that’s when a new item emerges. And sometimes, a client asks me to recreate or adjust a favorite piece that has worn out.
For me, slow-made leather goods means being able to stitch the same joint three times until it works exactly the way I want, without anyone rushing me.
Hand-stitching leather is my everyday reality. I have a sewing machine for fabric, which I use for linings, and occasionally I make wedding outfits for friends or my daughter.
I have a complicated relationship with traditional leather craftsmanship. I don’t do something just because it’s “traditional.” I use any material, technique, or tool that helps me achieve the result I need — even if it’s not recommended.
In the process of making a leather piece, everything matters: the material I enjoy working with, the shape that feels comfortable and balanced, the techniques that suit the leather and the pattern, and the balance between production complexity and the price I have to set. Every step — from the first idea to the finished object — is deliberate and considered.
All patterns are developed by me.
Adapting a design for a specific person, adjusting details, refining proportions is a natural part of my work. Browse my wallets.
Position
I believe in:
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durability instead of disposability
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honesty instead of noise
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depth instead of speed
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craftsmanship as a responsibility toward people
I do not make “fashionable” objects. I make objects meant to live with a person for years.
For whom I create
I create for those who feel the difference between a simple object and an object that forms a relationship.
If expressed in one word, I want a person holding my work to think:
“This is mine.”
If you'd like something custom-made, contact and let's discuss your project.
