The Passalong – leather studies of Jennings, Louisiana, Volume II
From the Practice Log – an ongoing series of original leather design studies.
A September study.
This is The Passalong – Volume II of our Jennings, Louisiana leather studies. Down here the best of a garden changes hands, one yard to the next, and we pressed that habit into leather: luggage tags and journals, keychains and a catchall tray.
First, the crop that started the town. Settlers from the Midwest tried rice on this prairie, and by 1894 more than a thousand acres of it stood around Jennings – so we crossed two heavy-headed stalks and set the town's name above the harvest.
The black tag carries the design in gold; deep green and honeyed russet take the blind press.




Next, the gourd. A birdhouse in this corner of Louisiana is a dried gourd hung from a cord, and the surest sign it worked is a tenant in the doorway. We drew the tenant home – so the little sign below reads NO VACANCY.
Looks great when stamped onto the leather.



The same gourd sits low in the corner of the toiletry bags, golden tan over chestnut – and hanging in a motel bathroom, NO VACANCY is simply the truth.

Then the satsuma, cut across into a wheel and ringed with rays – the sun a Louisiana dooryard keeps for the cold months. We pressed it at generous size into the golden tan of the tray.
Looks absolutely gorgeous when stamped onto the leather.


And finally, the design the whole collection is named for. A good fig never stays in one yard down here – a cutting roots in a jar of water and moves in next door, carrying its story with it. We stood the jar beneath the one word Southern gardeners keep for such a plant: PASSALONG.
The journals wear it in the corner, deep green and warm tan, with room inside for where every plant came from.



We made this out of love. Leatherius Woodman is on a mission to create and share artifacts of beauty, craft and love – this study is one of them, and we hope the feeling is mutual. Every image is a render – how we prototype before cutting a die.
If something here belongs on your table, or in your town – say hello through our contact page.
P.S.


