A customer wrote to me recently asking about the bag she’d purchased as a gift for her sister. Her sister had owned a Guatemalan handwoven bag before, and she wanted to know—really know—how this one came to be.
I wrote back a long email. And then I thought: other people probably want to know this too.
So here’s the full story, from the highlands of Guatemala to the leather workshop beside a school, to your hands.
It Starts with a Huipil
Every bag in our Guatemalan textile and leather collection begins with a huipil (pronounced wee-peel)—a traditional blouse worn by Indigenous Maya women in Guatemala. Each one is handwoven on a backstrap loom, a centuries-old tool anchored around the weaver’s back on one end and tied to a post or tree in front of her. By leaning forward or backward, she creates tension in the threads and controls the pattern with her hands.
This is not a fast process. Depending on complexity, a single huipil can take weeks or months to weave. Every design is built directly into the textile—not embroidered on top, not printed. The pattern is the weave.
(Not sure what a huipil is? Learn more: intertwinedforgood.com/pages/what-is-a-huipil-meaning-history-weaving)
Where the Huipiles Come From
The textiles we use are vintage, once worn by real Maya women going about their daily lives. They come from different regions across Guatemala, and each region has its own visual language. Nebaj huipiles, for example, are known for intricate, somewhat abstract imagery: birds, donkeys, geometric figures that carry meaning passed down through generations. Almolonga pieces burst with bold color. Every huipil tells you exactly where it’s from, if you know how to read it.
Our vintage pieces are sourced by Maria, a woman I’ve worked with for several years. She finds beautiful textiles secondhand, always paying fair prices and choosing pieces she knows will be loved. When Maria sends me photos of available huipiles, I look at them for a long time before deciding what they want to become.
Into Lorenzo’s Hands
Once I’ve selected a huipil, Maria sends it to Lorenzo Xum Ortiz, the founder of Cuero Malec, a leather workshop in Samayac, Guatemala.
Lorenzo has been working with leather since he was about ten years old. Our partnership began in 2022, when he transformed a vintage orange huipil we’d found at the market into a beautiful weekender bag overnight. That first piece helped me imagine what this collection could become.
Today, Lorenzo and his small team pair vintage huipiles, cortes, and other handwoven textiles with leather to create bags full of craft, character, and story. He sources quality leather and pairs it thoughtfully with each textile, considering weight, color, the way the weaving will fall when the bag is carried.
I’m always nudging Lorenzo to hire a woman on his team. He agrees completely, noting that women bring exceptional attention to detail to leatherwork. (Next hire, hopefully.)
A Workshop Built on Vision
What I love most about Lorenzo isn’t just his skill—it’s his heart for his community.
When his lease ended and he had to leave his old workshop, he didn’t give up. He borrowed from the bank and built a new space from the ground up, right beside a local school. His dream: to show the kids next door that they can build a future in their own town without needing to migrate to the U.S. He’s even designed the new workshop to host training for multiple artisan groups, not just leatherworkers.
Every Cuero Malec piece carries the work of many hands: the Maya women who originally wove the textiles, the partners who help source them fairly, and Lorenzo’s team, who gives them a second life in leather.
The Journey Home
Once the bags are finished in Samayac, they make their way to me in the U.S. through a woman-owned shipping business in Guatemala—quite rare there. The owner, Sonia, handles every shipment with care and works hard to keep rates fair so I can keep my pricing reasonable for customers.
When a bag arrives, I go through each one by hand. I look at the stitching. I check the hardware. I hold it, carry it a little. And then I think about who it might belong to next.
What You’re Carrying
When you bring one of our huipil bags home, you’re carrying something that was woven by a Maya woman on a loom that has existed in some form for centuries. You’re carrying the work of Lorenzo’s team in Samayac. You’re carrying the vision of a man who built his workshop beside a school so children could see that craftsmanship is a future worth choosing.
No two bags are identical. That’s the point. These aren’t manufactured; they’re made.
We hope you love yours.