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The LoneOnes x Porter Classic recently caught a lot of folks off guard. Why would these two companies collaborate?
We have to go back to 1995 for this. Katsu Yoshida, the founder of Porter Classic, supported and inspired Leonard Kamhout to come out of the shadows and launch his own brand, Leonard Kamhout (LoneOnes), amid his darkest and most perplexing time.
The 1980s marked the beginning of their narrative and brotherhood.
Mr. Yoshida now wants to help his family and his departed friend before he passes away, utilizing the partnership between Porter Classic and LoneOnes to tell the biography of his pal who passed away.
"The victors are kings, the vanquished are villains; history is always written by the successful."
In the fashion industry, this is one of the most talked-about—and darkest—stories. A self-taught silversmith from the Yakama Nation in the Pacific Northwest of the United States named Leonard Kamhout founded Chrome Hearts long before it became a billion-dollar brand adorned by rock stars and fashion icons.
His identity had all but disappeared from its history.
He was no typical craftsman; the evolution of modern jewelry was propelled by his talent, vision, and aesthetic sensibility. In addition to being a Native American, Leonard Kamhout was a state fencing champion, a lifelong vegetarian, a meditator, and a former hippie. He worked for almost ten years at the renowned Hollywood saddle manufacturer Edward H.Bohlin & Co., where he meticulously created silverware using the most time-consuming techniques—without the use of molds or short cuts.
The belt buckle worn by Larry Hagman in the tense "Who shot J.R.?" sequence of the television series “Dallas” was his creation, and years of experience sharpened his talents to the point where Hollywood took notice.
Long before the internet permanently recorded such moments, his art was metal castings, not props, that were profoundly embedded in the ethos of craftsmanship.
When CH co-founder John Bowman met Leonard in the late 1980s, he was a "core creator" rather than a working craftsman. Each piece of jewelry made of gold and silver, including belt buckles, buckles, crosses, and appliqué, was hand-hammered into shape based on his thoughts. He was more than just a designer; he was a creator, a visionary who could imagine the world of Chrome Hearts and bring it to life. The company was run by Richard Stark and his wife Laurie Lynn, while Leonard used silverware to establish the brand's illustrious foundation.
The original arrangement was straightforward: he, Bowman, and Stark each owned a third of the company. When Cher gave the three of them the CFDA Accessories Award in 1993, she clearly regarded him as the founder rather than merely an employee. They didn't even employ attorneys to create an agreement because of their unquestioned mutual faith.
But suddenly there were fissures. Unprecedentedly, Stark insisted that the CFDA give a separate reward to each partner. The collaboration fell apart. After his shares eventually disappeared, Leonard was left with a pitiful "survival allowance" of $5,000 to $10,000 per month, subject to the harsh requirement that he not make any money unless he created new items.
During the latter ten years of his life, this innovative designer, because of his unwavering devotion to his own brand, was forced to serve as a "piece-rate subcontractor" for the company he founded.
Later, Chrome Hearts published an exquisitely designed hardcover catalog to commemorate its 25th anniversary, but Leonard Kamhout's name was missing. No signature, not a single word. His "genes" seemed to have been taken from his own blood.
Leonard Kamhout was shot and killed in Stevenson, Washington, on December 31, 2016.
In the other room, his fifteen-year partner was cooking dinner. He was seventy years old.
He continued to make silverware in his last weeks for a corporation that would not recognize him.
The Starks did not assist with the cost of his cremation or attend his funeral. Rather, they sought to steal his few remaining belongings, which include work notes, Leonard's final design sketches, and a few original silverware molds he had never delivered. These artifacts subtly convey a story that had been attempted to be altered for decades.
The fashion industry rarely respects reality since it is fixated on making legends.
The only things Leonard Kamhout left behind were a collection of silverworks and the serenity he never found in life.
These pieces continue to stand witness in silence despite efforts to hide them.
In the realm of fashion, sometimes the truth is more valuable than the product.
People bemoan a brand's "legacy". However, nobody ever feels sorry for Leonard Kamhout.
It tells the tale of LoneOnes.