When former graphic designers Darren Hsieh (謝政倫) and Phoebe Chang (張雯惠) decided they needed a change of pace three years ago, they quickly and decisively cobbled together a new career plan. Just two months after teaching themselves basic leatherworking techniques, the couple opened a studio in Taipei’s East District (東區), where they have crafted and sold handmade purses and accessories since 2006.
“Our designs are very freestyle because we are self-taught. The things we make don’t look the same as if we had used traditional leatherworking methods and that is what makes our work special,” says Hsieh.
In their former jobs, the two worked mainly on advertisements, but they decided to embark on a new career path that would give them more independence and a chance to let their own aesthetic take center stage.
They were attracted to leather because it is a dynamic material that becomes more beautiful with use, Hsieh said, as he hand-stitched a black messenger bag at their workstation while Chang deftly hammered grommets through a leather strap. Both taught themselves leatherworking basics from books and Web sites, refining the rest of their technique through experimentation.
“We don’t want to over-design our items because each piece of leather is special. Sometimes it’s hard to find a balance,” says Hsieh. “Leather continues to change, even though the animal it came from is dead. It develops a patina with use, for example. That’s what got us excited about working with it in the first place.”
Figure 21 bags and accessories are designed to showcase and preserve the original form of the leather each piece is crafted from. Wallets and purses have raw edges and are lightly stained in rich earth tones to allow the natural grain of the skin to show through; the colors are highlighted with contrasting stitching in thick, waxed-cotton thread. Smaller pieces of leather are left whole and folded into asymmetrical billfolds, eyeglass cases and pouches. Pieces with a more polished aesthetic include a simple red tote with a brown strap and silver hardware, and a wallet with painstakingly applied pleating on the side to make it resemble a sleek black seashell. Belts and key chains are made out of leather strips left over from larger items.
Chang and Hsieh use brand new skins, but visit flea markets to find inspiration for their creations. Their store’s interior, which wouldn’t look out of place in a Japanese zakka catalog or shabby-chic decorating magazine, also reflects their passion for seeking out diamonds in the rough. Much of the furniture was plucked from dumpsters or the side of the road, while a vintage hand-operated sewing machine came from Chang’s childhood home. Vintage cameras, matchbox cars, candy tins, wooden shoe forms, plastic toys and a typewriter are carefully arranged like precious treasure in shelves made of weathered wood. Chang and Hsieh work in a small alcove to the left of the entrance.
“We like to use recycled and found objects. We like things that are imperfect and marked, but that have a story,” says Hsieh.
Since the design of each item is based on the leather it is made from, every article in the store is limited edition. The store’s name is a play on the phrase “figure to one,” which points to the singular nature of each bag, wallet or key chain.
“We don’t go into the design process hoping that a certain item will become a bestseller,” says Hsieh. Custom orders take one week for small accessories, while bags can take up to three weeks to complete.
Most readymade bags in the store are priced in the range of NT$2,000 to NT$8,000 for larger items, including work satchels and tote bags. Wallets, billfolds and eyeglass cases sell for about NT$2,000 to NT$3,000. Stamped leather buttons and hair accessories are NT$100 each, while leather-covered notebooks are NT$980.
July 1 to July 7 Huang Ching-an (黃慶安) couldn’t help but notice Imelita Masongsong during a company party in the Philippines. With paler skin and more East Asian features, she did not look like the other locals. On top of his job duties, Huang had another mission in the country, given by his mother: to track down his cousin, who was deployed to the Philippines by the Japanese during World War II and never returned. Although it had been more than three decades, the family was still hoping to find him. Perhaps Imelita could provide some clues. Huang never found the cousin;
Once again, we are listening to the government talk about bringing in foreign workers to help local manufacturing. Speaking at an investment summit in Washington DC, the Minister of Economic Affairs, J.W. Kuo (郭智輝), said that the nation must attract about 400,000 to 500,000 skilled foreign workers for high end manufacturing by 2040 to offset the falling population. That’s roughly 15 years from now. Using the lower number, Taiwan would have to import over 25,000 foreigners a year for these positions to reach that goal. The government has no idea what this sounds like to outsiders and to foreigners already living here.
Lines on a map once meant little to India’s Tibetan herders of the high Himalayas, expertly guiding their goats through even the harshest winters to pastures on age-old seasonal routes. That stopped in 2020, after troops from nuclear-armed rivals India and China clashed in bitter hand-to-hand combat in the contested high-altitude border lands of Ladakh. Swaths of grazing lands became demilitarized “buffer zones” to keep rival forces apart. For 57-year-old herder Morup Namgyal, like thousands of other semi-nomadic goat and yak herders from the Changpa pastoralist people, it meant traditional lands were closed off. “The Indian army stops us from going there,” Namgyal said,
A tourist plaque outside the Chenghuang Temple (都城隍廟) lists it as one of the “Top 100 Religious Scenes in Taiwan.” It is easy to see why when you step inside the Main Hall to be confronted with what amounts to an imperial stamp of approval — a dragon-framed, golden protection board gifted to the temple by the Guangxu Emperor that reads, “Protected by Guardians.” Some say the plaque was given to the temple after local prayers to the City God (城隍爺) miraculously ended a drought. Another version of events tells of how the emperor’s son was lost at sea and rescued