I used to think leather pulls were something only fancy interior designers bothered with, until I accidentally ripped off a kitchen cabinet handle and realized I had nothing to replace it with.
Turns out, making your own leather furniture pulls is one of those projects that sounds intimidating but is actually pretty forgiving—leather is remarkably tolerant of amateur mistakes, and even slightly wonky pulls end up looking intentional, maybe even rustic. You need vegetable-tanned leather (the kind that develops a patina over time, roughly 4-6 oz weight works well), a sharp utility knife or rotary cutter, metal rivets or Chicago screws, and some sandpaper. I’ve seen people use belt leather from craft stores, which costs around $15-30 for a decent-sized piece, though you can definately find scraps cheaper if you’re willing to hunt. The thickness matters more than you’d think—too thin and the pull feels flimsy when you yank open a drawer, too thick and it won’t fold properly around the screw hardware. Most tutorials suggest 5-6 oz as the sweet spot, but honestly, I’ve used 4 oz and it held up fine for lighter cabinet doors.
Here’s the thing: you don’t need fancy tools to cut consistent strips. A metal ruler, a cutting mat, and patience will get you surprisingly far.
I guess the real trick is in how you finish the edges—raw leather edges look unfinished and shed fibers, so you’ll want to burnish them with a wood slick or even just the back of a spoon and some water, rubbing in circular motions until the edge turns smooth and slightly darker. Some people use beeswax or gum tragacanth (a natural thickener that costs maybe $8 for a small bottle and lasts forever), but water works in a pinch if you’re impatient like me. The leather develops this almost glassy surface when done right, though I’ll admit my first attempts looked more like I’d chewed the edges than burnished them.
Wait—maybe the most overlooked part is how you attach them. Metal rivets give a more permanent industrial look, but they require a rivet setter tool (around $20-40), and if you mess up the placement, you’ve essentially ruined that piece of leather.
Chicago Screws and the Geometry of Grip Comfort
Chicago screws are more forgiving because they’re removable—they’re those two-piece fasteners where a screw threads into a post, and they come in finishes like brass, nickel, or blackened steel. You drill a hole through the leather (a leather punch works better than a drill bit, which can tear), fold the strap into a loop or U-shape, and sandwich the cabinet door between the two leather ends. The spacing between the screw holes determines how the pull hangs—too narrow and it sits stiff against the door, too wide and it flops around awkwardly. I’ve found that roughly 3-4 inches works for most standard cabinets, give or take depending on how much drape you want. Some people get really precise about this, measuring the natural curve of the leather when it hangs, but honestly, eyeballing it usually works fine unless you’re doing a whole kitchen and want them perfectly matached.
The other consideration is hand comfort—thin leather strips dig into your fingers when you’re pulling open a heavy drawer repeatedly, so wider pulls (1.5-2 inches) distribute the pressure better. I used to cut them narrow thinking it looked cleaner, but after a week of making breakfast and yanking open the utensil drawer, I switched to wider straps and my fingertips thanked me.
Patina Development and Why Your Pulls Will Look Better in Six Months Than Today
Vegetable-tanned leather darkens and develops character with handling—the oils from your hands, exposure to light, even the occasional splash of coffee all contribute to this aging process that makes each pull unique over time, maybe four to eight months depending on use frequency. It’s one of those rare home upgrades that actually improves with wear rather than deteriorating.
You can accelerate the patina with leather conditioners or oils (neatsfoot oil, mink oil, even coconut oil in desperate moments), though purists will tell you to let it happen naturally. I’ve done both, and the natural aging does look more even, but if you’re impatient, a light coat of conditioner won’t ruin anything. The leather will also stiffen slightly as it absorbs oils and compresses from use, which some people find annoying but I think makes the pulls feel more substantial, less like a craft project and more like actual hardware.
Anyway, the whole process from cutting to installation takes maybe an hour for a set of six pulls, and the material cost is low enough that you can experiment without feeling wasteful—I’ve made versions with braided edges, stamped patterns, even dyed leather using tea and vinegar with mixed but interesting results. The imperfections end up being part of the appeal, I guess, which is lucky because achieving perfection with leather and hand tools is exhausting and probably impossible.
