The Franjulia Story
Franjulia’s story began four years ago, but its roots stretch back to my childhood, where the seeds of my love for crafting were planted in my grandparents’ workshop.
My grandfather was a master of the lathe, and from a young age, I spent countless afternoons in his workshop, enchanted by the magic he could create with his two hands. His hands could turn raw, formless wood into elegant objects that seemed to come alive. I would help whenever I could, sweeping sawdust, passing tools, and quietly absorbing every move, every gesture. My grandmother was no less of an artist.
She had a delicate touch with the needle, and it was she who taught me the art of embroidery. Her fingers danced over the fabric, creating intricate patterns that spoke of tradition and beauty.
Like my grandfather, she loved to create—whether it was sewing, weaving, or embroidering, her hands were always busy with some form of art. I would sit beside her, sewing away, feeling an immense sense of joy and purpose as I stitched together small creations of my own. Those quiet moments with her were filled with love, patience, and the simple joy of making something beautiful from nothing.
The name “Franjulia” was born out of gratitude for them—my grandparents, the pillars of my childhood, who passed down their passion for craftsmanship to me. I wanted their legacy, their love for creating with their own hands, to live on in everything I make. It wasn’t until five years ago, however, that I encountered vegetable-tanned leather for the first time.
The smell—rich and earthy—tugged at something deep within me, evoking the same sense of wonder I felt in my grandfather’s workshop. It was love at first scent, but more than that, I fell in love with the material itself. Leather, like wood, is timeless. It has a way of carrying stories within it, aging gracefully with each mark, each crease, a testament to the life it has lived. I was drawn to leathercraft not just for its beauty, but for the precision it demanded. Many people don’t realize the level of care and patience required to create something from leather. Every cut, every stitch has to be exact. One slip of the blade, one moment of inattention, and you could ruin the entire piece, forcing you to start over from scratch. It’s an art form that requires focus and dedication—traits that my grandparents had instilled in me from a young age. There is no part of the leatherworking process that I don’t love.
From selecting the perfect hide to hand-stitching the final details, every step feels like a conversation with the material. It’s a craft that teaches you patience, respect, and a deep appreciation for the beauty of imperfection. Leather, like life, is not meant to be flawless. Its charm lies in the unique markings, the signs of time and use, that make each piece one of a kind. Now, four years into Franjulia, I carry my grandparents’ legacy with me in every product I create. My hands, like theirs, shape and mold, stitch and sew, turning simple materials into lasting treasures. Every wallet I craft tells a story—of tradition,
of love, of the timeless beauty that can be made with two hands. Franjulia is more than a brand; it’s a tribute to the art of craftsmanship, passed down through generations. It is a reminder that true beauty lies not in perfection, but in the care, attention, and love poured into each creation.
And with every piece, I honor the memory of the two people who taught me to create, to love, and to live with my hands and heart fully engaged in the work I do.
