It’s a brisk, blustery morning in Chicago, where fragrant leather hides are packed inside a brick tannery on the corner of Elston and Ashland. In New England, brass-coated steel hardware clinks in the back of a truck. Hundreds of miles away, bolts of smooth fabric are wrapped for shipment in the American South.
The materials are destined for Naples, where the artisans behind Korchmar Luxury Leather Goods will craft them into six styles of bags and carriers—30 of each—sewn by hand in the company’s workshop off Old 41.
The American Foundry Collection, set to release this month, is the answer to a question that has weighed on the Korchmar family since globalization fractured the industry’s supply chain: Could they still make a fully American leather bag, every stitch and rivet traced to U.S. soil? “This is not a profit plan,” says third-generation owner Michael Korchmar. “This is a passion plan, to prove that it can still be done.”
Photography by Dan Cutrona
american made leather naples korchmar twain weekender
For its summer-launched American Foundry Collection, Korchmar went beyond the typical ‘Made in USA’ standard, following the military’s stricter Barry Amendment criteria. Every aspect of production and assembly, down to raw materials, is done in America. The limited-run collection includes the Twain weekender (pictured here).
Michael’s grandfather, Max, immigrated from Ukraine and founded the brand on American manufacturing power in Cincinnati in 1917. Over the next century, the family supplied military field bags and attaché cases for government offices, then set the standard for briefcases for the growing white-collar workforce. Today, Michael runs the business alongside his son, Mike, the company’s president, and daughter, Amy, chief marketing officer.
Standing near the front of the workshop, Mike reaches for a black attaché case, unlatching it in one fluid motion and pausing briefly as each side comes into view. “That is called the BGU,” Mike explains. “It was made to carry B-52 bombing plans.” The case’s elegant silhouette disguises the cold-rolled steel interior frame, designed to keep military documents flat. “We held that government contract for about 40 years,” Michael adds.
The BGU recalls a time when ‘American-made’ wasn’t a mark of distinction. It was simply the standard for decades. When Michael took over the family business in 1976, most of his suppliers stretched between the Midwest and New York. But the manufacturing base was beginning to unravel. Environmental and labor regulations, changing tariff policies, and lower-cost imports from Asia converged on the industry within a few years. Most tanneries, fashion hardware foundries and specialized textile mills shuttered or moved overseas. Those that remained narrowed into defense contracts and other niche markets.
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Photography by Anna Nguyen
american made leather naples korchmar son mike
The family-run business’s century-long legacy was built on American manufacturing power, but as supply chains whithered, most of the production moved overseas. Now, Michael Korchmar and his children, Mike (pictured here) and Amy, are rebuilding a domestic supply chain from their Naples factory.
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Photography by Anna Nguyen
american made leather naples korchmar hide glue
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american made leather naples korchmar peices
Korchmar adapted where it had to, while holding on to the parts of the process it considered essential. The team kept its headquarters in the United States and continued buying leather from American tanneries. After a brief stint in China (a move that Michael later said was profitable but felt unpatriotic), they opened a Korchmar factory in the Dominican Republic.
The strategy kept the brand alive, but it wasn’t enough to save the Cincinnati plant. In 1999, Michael consolidated operations to Florida. The move meant laying off nearly 400 employees in Ohio, many of them the people who’d taught him the trade. “It was a heartbreaking task that left scars evident to this day,” he says. Ever since, he’s looked for ways to bring more pieces of the production back to U.S. soil and restore what was lost.
For consumers, the marker of American provenance is split between two labels regulated by the Federal Trade Commission: “Assembled in USA,” which allows imported materials as long as final production occurs domestically, and the stricter “Made in USA,” which requires “all or virtually all” domestic materials and manufacturing. While Michael believes the standard is needed to protect consumers, he finds both to be limited. The assembly standard does little to revive the domestic network of tanneries, weavers, hardware makers and other suppliers needed to produce a leather good. “If all of this industry is going to come back, it’s only going to happen if there is demand for all of these other inputs,” he says. Meanwhile, “Made in USA” leaves room for companies to stretch or misinterpret the rules. “The problem is the ‘virtually all’ requirement. The guidelines are vague and consequently leave manufacturers open to liability for litigation,” Michael adds.
Photography by Anna Nguyen
american made leather naples korchmar warehouse
Inside the Naples factory, 16 artisans cut, split and stitch full-grain leather into handsome bags. The honey-colored tanned hides arrive from Chicago split down the backbone, the outline of the steer still visible. Subtle marks and textures on the final designs reflect the life of the animal.
Rather than hoping the collection would satisfy the standard, Korchmar set out to exceed it. American Foundry is built around the Berry Amendment, the 1941 law that requires certain military gear to be sourced entirely from U.S. soil. Having made much of the military’s leather luggage through the Great Depression and World War II, the company had experience following the benchmark, which requires documentation tracing each component back to its domestic source. “We wanted to legally be able to market Made in USA. We didn’t want any question about it,” he says. “This is the crux of the whole project.”
The endeavor would prove futile for most manufacturers, but Korchmar had some advantages. Michael turned to his thick, well-worn Rolodex, built over five decades. One call led to another as he worked to restitch a fragmented industry. “This is why the collection took years to establish,” he says.
The leather came easily enough. Korchmar had always continued to buy hides from the handful of domestic tanneries that remained, so the team knew where to turn for premium hides. The harder search lay in the less visible pieces—the lining, thread, zippers, buckles and D-rings—whose supply chains had largely disappeared. Michael tapped into his old network to find who was still working under Berry standards. It took four months and three suppliers to track down the zippers—which entail an assembly of parts, all requiring documented compliance. “The tape, zipper teeth, zipper slider, and zipper pull are all not only ‘Made in USA’ but made with fabric and metals that are 100% of U.S. origin,” he says.
Finding the suppliers was just one part of the challenge. Korchmar had to work with manufacturers to adapt military-grade products to the fit, finish and feel expected for luxury leather accessories. For the double-brass-plated steel hardware, they worked with the manufacturer to engineer a cyanide-free plating process that achieved the warm appearance of antique brass without the traditional toxic chemistry.
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Photography by Dan Cutrona
american made leather naples korchmar sewing closeup
Forty years of contracts producing bags for the government kept the company afloat during the Great Depression. That longstanding relationship helped Korchmar identify hard-to-find domestic zipper producers for the finishing touches on bags like the Lewis backpack (pictured next).
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american made leather naples korchmar lewis backpack
In other cases, the work meant rooting out imported materials that had found their way into otherwise domestic products. “The weavers said, ‘That’s got a little bit of rayon in it that was imported,’” he recalls. “We can’t have that. So they came back with a solution that’s 100% U.S. yarn.” Every gain in provenance raised the price, but ensured the authenticity that Michael was after.
The collection begins with stacks of full-grain leather selected from the top 5% of steer hides by Horween Leather Company, a Chicago institution dating to 1905, when the city stood at the center of the nation’s meatpacking industry. “This tannery does it in the oldest possible way,” Michael says of their process. Over the course of weeks, Horween transforms the hides using extracts from tree bark, wood, leaves and fruit, producing a durable leather that develops a rich patina with age.
The hides are colored using translucent aniline dyes that soak into the leather rather than coating it, and finished with oils and waxes that preserve the animal’s markings. The light, honeyed tone ensures the skin’s natural textures remain visible. “Maybe the steer was prone to bug bites. Maybe it got sick. Maybe it fought,” Michael says. “All of these things persist through the leather. We believe that’s part of the story of the product.” Across the bags, the marks show up as feathery striations, faint ripples and subtle ridges in the grain.
Photography by Dan Cutrona
american made leather naples korchmar zipper upclose
Unlike the rest of Korchmar’s line, much of which is produced in the Dominican Republic, every major stage of the American Foundry Collection remains within U.S. borders. The Horween leather arrives in Naples as whole sides, split down the backbone, the outline of the animal still visible. Master cutters spend time with each hide, reading its scars, wrinkles and grain to decide which sections deserve the front of a briefcase, the handle of a duffel or the base of a tote. They then use steel dies to cut out the pattern pieces before thinning the leather, skiving the edges so seams fold cleanly, and assembling each bag through repeated staining, stitching and finishing. Each step is guided as much by processes established through a century of experience as by the artisan at the bench.
Mike walks across the floor of the 12,000-square-foot workshop, pausing to point out the various sewing machines his grandfather—Don—amassed during his 60-year tenure. Michael and Mike keep their desks on the open workshop floor, no walls separating them from the hammer and hum of the work. The men listen to the whir of the Singer motors and the steady clatter of bobbins. “Factories have a certain rhythm,” Michael explains. “We can hear interruptions or breaks in the rhythm that indicate machine or production problems.” The family doesn’t see itself as upper management—the craft is part of who they are. A photograph on Mike’s desk shows a blonde-haired toddler, his daughter. If she chooses, she’ll be the fifth generation to run Korchmar. “As we always seek to look forward, we always look back,” Mike says.
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american made leather naples korchmar anita tote
The American Foundry Collection’s initial release includes fully American-made versions of four long-running Korchmar designs and two new styles, with additional styles planned for future releases. The Anita tote was named after Michael’s mother.
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american made leather naples korchmar logo up close
The same instinct shaped the designs. Michael, Mike and Amy drew each piece from Korchmar’s century-old archive. While the interiors accommodate modern life with padded slots for laptops and expandable pockets for cell phones and passports, the exteriors pare things back. The six bags—including a backpack, weekender, dopp kit and tote—favor simple shapes, broad expanses of leather and understated hardware, allowing the materials and craftsmanship to take center stage. Familiar pieces like the Garfield briefcase and Taft duffel are reimagined in Horween’s caramely leather, while the Anita tote, named for Michael’s mother, joins the lineup with the collection’s signature herringbone lining. “This line is more of a pushback to the classic, which is what we’re all about anyway,” Michael says.
The family plans to build on American Foundry, adding new men’s and women’s styles annually. But the finished products are a small part of the ambition, a means to an end—proving that enough of the industry remains to rebuild it. “Just as it took a couple of decades to destroy my industry’s U.S. manufacturing base, it will likely take more than the rest of my life to rebuild it,” Michael says. “I just want to take the first step back.”
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Photography by Dan Cutrona
american made leather naples korchmar michael owner
For Michael, it is less about profit than clarity of purpose. He knows that restoring American manufacturing to the strength Max relied on will take decades. “I just want to take the first step back,” he says.
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Photography by Anna Nguyen