Peter Murray makes things the slow way – by hand, by feel, by instinct. From his workshop in Swellendam, he crafts honest leather goods and wooden wares with a focus on function, tactility, and quiet precision. No bells. No whistles. Just thoughtful, durable design, stitched with humour and a little thumbs-up.
In the quiet town of Swellendam, far from the churn of city life and the algorithms of the design world, Peter Murray is doing something rare: making useful, beautiful things by hand, one at a time. From leather wallets to hardwood cutting boards, he’s not chasing scale or trend. He’s chasing the satisfaction of getting it right.
Before the burnished edges and perfect bevels, there were film reels. Peter spent a decade in the film industry, watching the creative process shift from cans of celluloid to cold hard drives. “You’d hand over this little brick of digital info and that was it,” he says. “Sometimes you didn’t even see the final thing.”
That detachment gnawed at him. He wanted to make something real. Something you could touch. Something that didn’t disappear when the Wi-Fi dropped.
So he started woodworking. Then leatherwork. First out of curiosity, then out of necessity (woodworking is hard on the neighbours after 6pm). It turns out leather is quieter. And Peter, by his own account, always liked making containers anyway – pouches, boxes, bags, boxes to put those bags in.
And so it went.
Peter’s first workshop was a makeshift Wendy house in the backyard. His first wallet, by his own admission, was terrible. He still shows it off at markets to remind people (and maybe himself) that skill comes from repetition. “The second was a little better. The third better than that. After a couple thousand wallets, you start feeling proud of the work.”
He approaches both wood and leather the same way: with patience, practicality, and a weird love for containers. He rarely combines the two. Wood and leather live mostly separate lives in his workshop, but they share a mindset: precision, simplicity, and a quiet kind of pride.
“You shoot for perfection knowing you’ll never get there. But you might get close.”
There’s no romanticism here. No tortured-artist mystique. Peter’s tools are humble. His studio is small. His motto? Do the stuff. Make the thing.
Peter and his wife landed in Swellendam by coin toss, literally. It was either a houseboat in Bristol or a small town in the Overberg. Swellendam won.
It suits him. There’s space, time, and just enough distance from city distractions. “Sure, I have to plan my supply runs more carefully now,” he shrugs, “but I’ve made full wallets during load-shedding with an LED headlamp on. Leather doesn’t care about power outages.”
Living there hasn’t slowed him down. He sells regularly at Under the Oaks Market, where face-to-face feedback keeps him going. “The best moments are when someone comes back a year later, shows me their wallet, and says ‘Look at this thing now.’ That patina, that lived-in look—it tells its own story.”
Running Peter Murray Made solo is a dance of satisfaction and overwhelm. He’s the designer, maker, photographer, marketer, stallholder, and he jokes, perennial Employee of the Month. “There are so many things to do. Like, be more creative. But also meditate. And update your SEO. And remember to take your wife out to dinner.”
He’s honest about the trade-offs. He doesn’t have a website anymore. The admin side wore him down. But the making, that part still sparks joy.
“If I can make something that becomes someone’s favourite thing to use, that’s a win.”
He’s not precious about perfection, but he is particular. “If I’m off by a millimetre, I know it. And I’ll adjust the next step to make it right.”
His Instagram voice is dry, self-aware, often hilarious. That’s not branding. It’s just Peter.
“Sometimes I write something funny and I might be the only person laughing. But it makes me happy, so I post it.”
His products reflect the same personality: quiet, purposeful, with just enough quirk. A pop of unexpected stitching. A cut that feels better in the hand than it looks on camera. A tiny leather logo shaped like a thumbs-up.
“Everyone else is branding with skulls and axes,” he says. “I just think a thumbs-up is nice. It’s accessible. Friendly. Who doesn’t like a thumbs-up?”
If there’s a thread that runs through everything Peter makes, it’s simplicity. No bells. No whistles. Just form boiled down to what’s essential, and then made to last.
A wallet that works for years. A board you want to reach out and touch. A thing that earns its place in your daily life.
“If you look after it, it’ll look after you. And maybe one day, you’ll hand it down.”
Peter Murray doesn’t want to go big. He just wants to get better. One piece at a time. And he’s okay with that.
Because not everything needs to scale. Some things just need to be made well.
Do the stuff. Make the thing.
