Aging is not simply the result of time passing and a leather item going slack. I believe it is the result of the owner using it consistently and raising it. And “raising” doesn't mean being overprotective—it is, I think, the owner's affection for and commitment to the piece.
In my case, the bag I use for commuting is a precious piece given to me a few years ago by someone I respect, so I handled it with great care. But once, on a packed train, the metal fittings on the next person's bag caught on it and scratched it. Ever since, on crowded trains I hold it with the front facing me.
As for the ankle boots, I bought them some years ago, when I wasn't yet used to caring for shoes. So I polished my gray boots with a black cream that happened to be at home. The moment I put it on the toes I thought I'd made a mistake, but I couldn't exactly wash it off, so I polished the whole boot—and by chance they turned this deep color. In the end, I'm happy with them.
Leather is a natural material. The more you use it, the more clothing and shoes conform to your body and feet, and bags and small goods change according to how you use them. In a market full of mass-produced products that all look the same, leather is a material that lets you shape your own self-expression. As sweat and dirt soak into a leather item, I can't help feeling that it is telling my own history.
