Leather Care 101: Field Notes for Queer Gear

Leather is queer armor. It absorbs smoke from late nights, salt from sweaty dance floors, and the stories we’re not ready to tell yet. If you want your jacket or harness to age with you instead of against you, the work starts long before a rip appears.

Clean without punishment

Soap straight from the kitchen sink is too harsh. Reach for a glycerin-based saddle soap or a vegan cleaner that lists oils you can pronounce. Work the soap into a barely damp cloth, massage the leather in circles, and let it dry naturally. Sunlight bakes dye out of leather, so dry pieces in the shade like you would a good tattoo.

Condition on a seasonal rhythm

Leather loses moisture just like skin. I rotate through three conditioners—mink oil for rugged boots, a lighter balm for jackets, and a silicone-free spray for pieces that hug the body. Condition in thin layers, buff gently, and walk away. Over-conditioning leaves the surface tacky and attracts dust, which is how "patina" becomes "why is this gray now?".

Store with intention

Most ruined gear dies in storage. Use wide hangers so shoulders keep their structure, and never suffocate pieces inside plastic garment bags. I toss cedar blocks into storage bins for pug-hair control and swap in breathable cotton bags before a long trip. If you live in a humid apartment, a tiny dehumidifier is cheaper than replacing a harness collection.

Know when to call in backup

DIY repairs are cute until you stretch out a seam or melt vinyl trim with the wrong solvent. When leather cracks or hardware corrodes, I lean on a local cobbler who understands queer gear. They reinforce stress points, replace rivets, and clean pieces I’ve abused while touring. Build that relationship before you need it.

Leather care isn’t about perfection. It’s about keeping tactile reminders of joy alive. Every time you wipe down a boot or condition a cuff, you’re declaring that queer life is worth preserving.