The modern leather industry is complex. Leather is one of the oldest materials in human history. It is durable, adaptable, and abundant. For millennia, communities across the world have utilised animal hides – and animal skins – in harmony with their local environments. Yet today, it is considered one of fashion’s most harmful materials.
How did a material that was entrenched in sustainable systems become the enemy of ethical fashion?
Chromium tanning – used in about 90% of global leather production – is a major culprit, known for contaminating underground water sources, endangering the health of workers, and polluting surrounding areas.
South Africa, one of the major producers of chromium in the world, sits uncomfortably in this equation, supplying the world with access to our mineral resources while exporting semi-processed hides only to buy them back as premium finished products from places like Italy.
How do we reconcile our relationship with leather?
Keneilwe Munyai received a doctorate in sustainable leather production processes from Cape Peninsula University of Technology in 2015. She conducted her research in response to the question, “What did we do before industrialisation?”
Her journey into the world of sustainable leather started with a deep dive into indigenous South African tanning techniques. “We cannot look at issues of sustainability without looking at indigenous practices,” Keneilwe says in an interview.
Her research traced how local communities processed hides using natural materials. Vegetable tanning is the process where animal hides are soaked in vats of crushed bark like black wattle, acacia, or local trees – often for weeks, to prevent the material from decomposing and making it suitable for various applications such as clothing and footwear.
It is also this lengthy period that has made vegetable tanning a less desirable alternative to using chromium, which reduces tanning to a fraction of the time.
However, several tanneries have built sustainable industries in vegetable tanning. When Keneilwe travelled to Italy, a country famed for its leather goods, many assumptions were upended.
“When we hear about Italian leather, we [assume] that all their leather has high-tech, large-scale setups,” she says. “But actually small-scale, family-owned businesses working as a collective are driving sustainable tanning vegetable tanning.”
This model, which she calls collective efficiency, relies not on massive factories but on interconnected networks of small producers. Because they’re agile, they can quickly adjust to environmental legislation or changing market demands without significant disruption.
South Africa, Keneilwe argues, has the ideal conditions to implement this kind of model. “Out of the 21 tanneries we had at the time [of her research], only one was doing vegetable tanning, and even then, it wasn’t their main focus,” she says.
High-quality leather is sent abroad and returns as “Made in Italy” luxury products, often with African contributions erased in the process
The fact that we export wet blue leather (semi-processed, chromium‑tanned hides) only to reimport finished goods reveals an inefficient and extractive trade relationship. It mirrors what’s happening in Nigeria, where high-quality leather is sent abroad and returns as “Made in Italy” luxury products, often with African contributions erased in the process.
It’s not just that these brands receive the greatest economic benefit; they also get to remain clean. “Because we’re only doing the dirty part of the production,” Keneilwe says.“We assume the greatest environmental burden.”
Brands in the Global North can claim green supply chains, while communities in the Global South absorb the waste, toxicity, and labour. South Africa has regulations on chromium waste management, but these are not on par with many international regulations.
Keneilwe doesn’t believe the answer lies in abandoning leather altogether or pivoting entirely to “plant-based” alternatives, which she refuses to acknowledge as leather. Petro-chemical derived options like polyurethane leathers (PU) are equally, if not more, harmful to the environment as chromium-free products and new-generation materials made from pineapple or mushroom are either still years away from meeting performance demands or scalable production.
We can never truly return to the methodology of the past: the passage of time and industrialisation have completely altered the landscape that created those systems, but we can retain the principles of looking to our local environments and coming up with situationally nuanced solutions
Instead, she proposes a strategic blend of old and new, reclaiming indigenous methods while updating them to suit scalable, modern contexts. We can never truly return to the methodology of the past: the passage of time and industrialisation have completely altered the landscape that created those systems, but we can retain the principles of looking to our local environments and coming up with situationally nuanced solutions.
One example is black wattle, an invasive species wreaking havoc on South African riverbanks, consuming water and displacing native flora and fauna. But it also happens to be excellent for vegetable tanning.
“A country like Italy is importing vegetable tannins from South Africa,” Keneilwe says. “Why not use that resource here to solve an ecological problem and grow a sustainable leather industry?”
Or take our great wine country. South Africa’s vineyards generate vast amounts of agricultural waste. The wine grape seed waste can be efficiently used as a tanning agent. This could also aid in generating the employment opportunities we desperately seek. “We’re not thinking strategically about the things we see as problems,” she says.
Leather, after all, has enduring advantages when processed ethically. It’s durable, repairable, versatile across fashion and utility, and often outlasts the “sustainable” synthetics it’s now pitted against. In Southern Africa, leather also has cultural significance, used historically in everything from ceremonial dress to everyday garments.
Sustainable fashion doesn’t always mean sacrifice, based on binary thinking such as “all leather is bad” or “vegan products are good”. It can mean an opportunity to reconnect and re-engage heritage, environment, and economy. By embracing vegetable tannins and small-scale collective efficiency in processing, South Africa has the potential to redefine leather, not as an extractive commodity, but as a regenerative craft rooted in tradition without reinventing the wheel.
“This transformation does not necessarily result in completely new products or processes,” Keneilwe says. “The innovation aspect is in the ability to create local solutions.”
- Feature image of Ziya Xulu and Nomzamo Mbatha on the set of Shaka iLembe, courtesy of Mzansi Magic
