TOKYO — Nineteen years ago, when he started working in a factory that made watch straps, Kunitaka Kojima thought it was just part of a timepiece. “I underestimated watch bands,” he said.
Now, Mr. Kojima, 48, is an independent craftsman who makes them by hand: “My desire is to make the most beautiful watch straps in the world, which will be used and admired for a long time to come.”
In 2012, he founded his own brand Galuchattail. Galuchat is a term for stingray and shark leather (named – though misspelled – after Jean-Claude Galluchat, Louis XV’s master craftsman, who introduced the exotic materials to France in the 18th century). As for the word ‘tail’ in the brand name, Mr Kojima said, it refers to ‘the tail of the stingray, which is sharp and taut, as I want my designs to be’.
The straps, which start at 150,000 yen ($1,085) for the simplest version in crocodile, are designed to be taken apart for repairs. “If the material is damaged, you can replace it, or if the loop breaks, you can make a new loop and fix it over and over,” Kojima said.
His clientele includes watch collectors from all over the world, independent watchmakers in Switzerland and Japan, and micro-brands such as Naoya Hida & Co., the Tokyo maker who equipped his first watch, the Type 1C, with a hand-stitched brown leather strap from Galuchattail.
Mr Hida said his first visit to Mr Kojima’s workshop was in 2018. “I was deeply impressed by his unparalleled dedication to quality and creativity,” said the watchmaker. “I immediately asked him to make leather straps for our watches.”
Leatherwork is part of Mr. Kojima. A great-grandfather was a tanner and as a child played with small pieces of leather from his parents’ leather factory.
When he started working, he spent seven years as a tailor, but the cost of equipment prevented him from opening a shop. “I was looking for work where I could use my cutting and sewing skills, so I went to a watch strap factory in Tokyo,” he said, pointing out that he was part of a six-member team that produced 20,000 straps each month. “I worked 18-hour days, from 8 a.m. to 2 a.m., with one day off per month.”
The idea of a belt that could be repaired intrigued Mr. Kojima, and he set up a small workshop in Asakusa, an eastern district of Tokyo known for the Senso-ji Buddhist Temple, a major tourist attraction. Asakusa was also where Mr. Kojima was born and raised, although he now lives in Ebisu, on the west side of town (“I have a sleeping bag in the studio”, he said, “in case I’m too focused on production and I can’t go back to home when the last train has run out”).
In July, Mr. Kojima guided a few guests, including myself, through the process of creating his three styles of strap: the 3D Flex, a strap that matches the curve of the customer’s wrist; the 2-D straight; and the Ready-Made, which, despite its name, is also customizable. He said a standard ready-made belt can take three to five hours, but a custom-made belt can take up to six months.
Choose the material
mr. Kojima uses all kinds of animal skins, but his signature choice is galuchat, which he buys through Japanese leather wholesalers in Thailand and Indonesia. He said he preferred pieces about 12 by 6 inches because the pebbles on the surface, known as denticles, are relatively small and look better on larger hides. Although he uses every bit of every piece, the white star-marked portion on a stingray’s spine is more expensive, increasing the cost of a custom 3D Flex Galucha belt to 250,000 over the usual price of ¥220,000 . “The star sign is considered a good luck charm that brings you to the light,” said Mr. Kojima. Then he showed a stingray skin covered in star spots and commented, “I waited five years to get it for a client.” When that belt is ready, he says, it will cost about 500,000.
Polishing and painting
Mr. Kojima dyes his own skins. “For galuchat, I first polish the denticles one at a time, by hand, with a file to remove the small scratches, and polish them until they shine,” he said. He then uses a brush to apply the dye, usually darkening the color as he works toward the edges. “However, when painting, the gloss gets a bit cloudy, so I manually polish it again after the paint has dried,” he said. “And when you polish it, the color of galuchat fades a little due to friction, so I’m painting it again.” He repeats the whole process, sometimes up to ten times, a process that can take up to a month.
Fitting
For a custom order, Mr. Kojima measures the customer’s wrist with a special gauge, which is an orange and black piece of plastic that wraps the wrist and looks like something made out of Lego. “It’s the same as tailoring clothes, except for a wrist,” he said.
Designing and cutting
Using the dimensions, he draws the belt on graph paper and then, guided by the sketch, makes a pattern from a transparent sheet of plastic about half a millimeter thick. He then arranges his materials in a sort of sandwich: the galoe chat; the core layer, a strong material called Cordura, made by the American company Invista; and the liner, which is also usually leather (Mr. Kojima recommends shark leather because the uneven surface means the band is unlikely to stick to the wearer’s wrist in warm weather). He places the pattern on it and then cuts through the layers with a leather blade made by a blacksmith who specializes in Japanese swords.
To shave
“Before I fit the watch band, I shave the leather so that the band doesn’t look sloppy and adjust the thickness of the leather,” said Mr. Kojima, showing a 1960s kawasukiki razor he picked up second-hand. . To demonstrate, he placed a strip of leather against the machine’s spinning wheel, which rubbed it until Mr. Kojima decided it was thin enough to use.
Sewing and assembling
Because stingray leather is very hard, Mr. Kojima uses a small hand drill with a twist drill to make holes and switches to a sharp straight bit to re-drill them all. He then sews with a curved needle and polyester thread covered in wax through the galuchat and core material (but not the lining because, he said, sweat or water could work its way up). “I sew by hand because I can perfectly control the pressure and speed, as opposed to using a machine,” he said. Finally, Mr. Kojima uses one of the five glues he has on hand to attach the liner.
Finish
Mr. Kojima has his own method of sealing the edges of a tire. First, he brushes paint on the rough edges, then applies a wax that he has formulated. When everything is completely dry, he heats a trowel over a lamp and gently rubs the edges with the warm tool to allow the wax to penetrate the leather. He repeats the process 21 times to get a shiny and resistant edge, a process that generally takes about a week. “Painting the rim makes it easy to repair if damaged, and it’s also sweat and waterproof because the water can’t get in,” he said. As for the buckle, Mr. Kojima will make one, or reuse one from an old strap provided by the customer.
The tape is now ready. With his patience, dedication to perfection and detailed explanations, I told Mr. Kojima to become a teacher. “My dream is to open a school,” he said. “I want to teach young craftsmen to understand the essence of making a watch strap.”