PHILOSOPHY, STORY, BIOGRAPHY

Quality never appears by accident.

Behind every truly good product, there are almost always years of mistakes, searching, experience, disappointment, testing, and a constant desire to make things better. Especially when it comes to something a person wears, uses regularly, and gradually becomes attached to over time.

For me, a quality product is not just good materials or neat craftsmanship. It is an honest attitude toward the person who will use it. It is the right choice of materials. Thoughtful construction. Comfort in use. Attention to detail. And a price that truly reflects what a person receives.

That is probably why the story of my projects is, first of all, a story about the philosophy of quality and an honest product. Only after that does it become a story about business.

My name is Mykyta Beneria. I am from Kharkiv, Ukraine.

I grew up in an ordinary family. My mother had a regular job, and my father has spent his entire life making clothing. From an early age, I watched him develop patterns, choose materials, and create unique custom pieces for clients. For me, it all felt completely normal. I quite literally grew up surrounded by fabrics, patterns, threads, fittings, and the constant search for ways to make something better.

My father's main principle was always very simple: quality and practicality must come first, a product should bring enjoyment, and the price should be fair. Not expensive just for the sake of being expensive, but fair, where a person understands what they are paying for and receives real quality in return. Over time, this approach became my philosophy not only in business, but in life as well.

Since childhood, I loved creating things for myself. Well, creating might not be the right word. I would sketch ideas for things that felt practical, comfortable, and personalized specifically for me. My father would look at my ideas and explain what worked well and what needed improvement. Most of the time, these ideas were related to activities, sports, and everyday life.

Even now, we still occasionally develop things together. Some of our most recent ideas include urban raincoats and a snowboard suit. I enjoy personally testing products like these, improving them, and understanding what works well and what still needs to be changed. Although, over time, I also learned something important: not every good idea is meant to become a real project.

But leather products were always my favorite.

Whenever my father worked with leather, I was always nearby. I was fascinated by everything about it: how it was cut, how it smelled, how it changed in your hands, and how it looked after being worked on. I would take every scrap piece left over and turn it into bracelets, small accessories, and handmade little things.

The smell of leather almost hypnotized me, and I would completely lose track of time while making something. I could sit for hours fully absorbed in the process without even noticing how much time had passed. Back then, I had no idea where it would eventually lead me. At that time, it was simply a hobby that brought me joy.

At the same time, food was almost a way of life in our family. Everyone loved cooking, and at some point, I realized that I wanted to become a chef.

I still remember being around five or six years old when I cooked my first soup and decided that one day I would work with food. My parents told me something very simple: everything is in your hands, but first, you need to grow up.

My childhood was split between two different worlds. On one side, there was the smell of leather, patterns, and handmade craftsmanship. On the other side, there was food, flavor, and constant experimentation in the kitchen.

After finishing ninth grade, I enrolled in culinary school. After my first year, I joined a restaurant as an intern. That was the beginning of my professional journey in gastronomy, a journey that lasted a little more than eight years.

I worked in different cities and countries and eventually became a head chef.

Kitchen work shaped my character in many ways. Sometimes, I had to work eighteen hours straight in extreme heat, sometimes for weeks without a single day off, under constant pressure and at a relentless pace. Working in kitchens taught me discipline, endurance, and something else that stayed with me for life: sometimes results only come through difficult daily work. After experiences like that, many challenges no longer feel impossible.

But eventually, I realized that I wanted something different.

I wanted to build something of my own.

I started thinking about creating a business. I tried different ideas, launched projects, experimented, and searched for something that felt right. But almost everything ended in failure. Sometimes I lacked experience. Sometimes I did not understand the market well enough. Sometimes I simply made the wrong decisions.

Then one day, after yet another failure, I came home with no money. Before that, I had tried opening a store in a small seaside town, but that is a different story.

That was the moment something finally clicked.

I realized what my biggest mistake had been.

Almost all of my previous projects had been built around one idea: making fast money. Not building something meaningful. Not creating something truly valuable. Just trying to make money quickly. And that was exactly why everything eventually fell apart.

For the first time in my life, I was honest with myself.

I no longer wanted to build a business only for money.

I wanted to create something that I would personally enjoy holding in my hands. Something I would never feel ashamed of. Something that would genuinely bring people enjoyment.

Most importantly, I wanted to create an honest product at a fair price.

That was the moment I decided to turn my hobby into a business.

I borrowed 400 dollars, bought my first leather, and at the same time got a job as a waiter so I would have money to live on. At that moment, I did not have a business model, a finished product line, or even a clear understanding of what exactly my product would become. What I had was a desire to return to leather, work with my hands again, and try turning it into something real.

And that became one of the best decisions of my life.

I started working at Protagonist Bar in Kharkiv. This place influenced me far more than I could have imagined. It was not just about work. I genuinely admired the philosophy of the owner and the entire team. He already had a successful business, but he did not open the bar to make more money. He simply wanted to create a place with its own atmosphere, its own people, its own philosophy, and its own community. A place where people would return not only for food or drinks, but for the feeling, the atmosphere, and the people around them.

That was probably the first time I truly understood that business could be something bigger than simply making money.

That way of thinking resonated with me deeply. Later, I brought part of that philosophy into my own work. I wanted to create not just products, but something with shared values, shared ideas, and people who think similarly. I wanted there to be something behind the brand that felt bigger than simply selling things.

Working at the bar also introduced me to many new people. I met a lot of interesting personalities there, and later, I even worked with some of them.

And honestly, if you ever find yourself in Kharkiv, I sincerely recommend visiting Protagonist. For me, it will always remain a special place and an important part of my story.

Every free moment outside of work, I spent in my home workshop.

I started learning leatherwork again, but this time in a completely different way. Not as a kid making bracelets from scraps, but as someone trying to truly understand the material professionally and turn it into a real product. I tested leather, studied tools, experimented with different ways of cutting, glued, stitched, made mistakes, redid things, and tested everything again.

Almost all my money went into materials, tools, and equipment that I constantly lacked. I studied how leather behaves in real use, how it holds shape, how it reacts to stress, where it stretches, where constructions fail, what looks beautiful only on the table, and what actually works in real life.

At the same time, I studied the market. I explored different niches, compared products, materials, pricing, photography, fit, and the overall level of quality being offered. After three or four months of constant testing, mistakes, and analysis, I finally understood what I wanted to create.

I chose chokers and BDSM accessories.

I realized there were very few truly high quality products in this niche. Most of the market was divided between cheap factory production and specialized stores where prices were often extremely inflated and did not always reflect the actual quality. I wanted to do the opposite. I wanted to create beautiful, thoughtful products made from good materials, with proper fit, clean craftsmanship, and honest pricing.

The original idea was simple: to create specialized accessories with beautiful designs instead of repeating what factories were already producing. I wanted harnesses and chokers to highlight the natural shape of the body, complement an outfit, and bring enjoyment not only through appearance, but through the experience of wearing them.

For me, this had to become the perfect balance: quality product, aesthetics, comfort, purpose, and an honest relationship with the person buying it.

That was when I started building the collection and purchasing materials.

But money was still extremely limited. Almost everything I had went straight back into the business: leather, tools, equipment, hardware, experiments, testing. By the time all of that was covered, there was simply nothing left for a proper photoshoot.

At that moment, I made a decision I definitely would not repeat today.

I partially used photos from the internet.

At the time, it felt like the only option. I simply wanted to begin, show direction, and understand whether people even needed a product like this. But not long after, Instagram deleted my first account where I sold my products because copyright holders reported the images.

That experience taught me something important: if you want to build something serious, shortcuts are a bad foundation. Even when you have almost no money and are simply trying to survive and create something, the foundation still has to be built properly.

So I started saving money again.

I created a complete collection and organized my first real photoshoot. A close friend of mine who worked in photography helped me, and his friend became the model. That was the first time everything started feeling like a real project rather than just an idea living in my head.

After that, I launched the Instagram page again, and little by little, things started improving. After work and on weekends, I fulfilled orders, and almost every bit of profit went right back into the business: materials, equipment, testing, new ideas, and photography. Money was still tight, but at that point, it no longer stopped me. I could already see the project slowly growing.

Gradually, orders started coming in. People returned, recommended me to others, and told their friends about my work. That was probably the first moment when I truly felt this could become something much bigger than just another attempt at building a business.

Some time later, someone reached out to me who would eventually become my business partner. I focused on production while he handled sales. That partnership accelerated everything. Orders increased, more opportunities appeared, and slowly the business started moving to a completely different level.

But then COVID-19 happened.

For a while, everything went quiet.

Orders almost completely stopped, and once again, that familiar feeling of uncertainty returned. To be honest, thoughts started creeping into my mind: what if this ends the same way all my previous projects did? But working in kitchens had already taught me an important lesson. Difficult periods are not a reason to give up. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is keep moving and continue doing your work, even when everything feels unstable.

About four or five weeks later, people started getting tired of staying at home, and slowly, orders began returning. Then eventually there were so many that I simply could not handle everything on my own anymore. I was working twelve to thirteen hours a day, often with almost no days off, and at some point, I realized something obvious: continuing alone was no longer possible.

That was when my mother became my first employee. At that time, she was no longer working, and for me, this became an incredibly important moment. Something that had started as a small home workshop and an attempt to start over was slowly becoming a real business, one capable of providing work not only for me, but for other people as well.

Later, I needed another person. As life slowly started returning to normal after COVID, I once again found myself balancing production with my work at the bar. Eventually, it became obvious that continuing this way was impossible. I realized it was time to leave and fully commit to my own business. Honestly, it was scary. The bar was stable, familiar, and safe. I had already built an important chapter of my life there. But at the same time, I understood something very clearly: if I did not take the risk now, I would most likely regret it for the rest of my life.

I found a workshop space, and the three of us started working together. This was no longer a home workshop. Production slowly became more serious, processes became more organized, and the project itself started turning into something much bigger than I had ever imagined.

Around that same time, I launched my Etsy store. That opened a completely new level of opportunity. Orders kept growing, the audience expanded, and once again, I needed more people. First one more person, then another. At some point, I already had seven employees, and with me included, we became a team of eight.

Little by little, I moved away from being the person who did absolutely everything by hand and stepped more into the role of designer and leader. But one thing always remained extremely important to me: personally understanding every detail of the product. Testing materials, refining constructions, improving fit, and knowing exactly what a person would receive.

Around that same time, I started building Shopify and thinking much bigger about the future of the project.

And then, everything stopped again.

Because ᵣussia launched its full scale invasion of Ukraine.

My hometown, Kharkiv, came under daily bombardment. We were unlucky with the country next door. Everything I had spent years building suddenly found itself under threat again. But this was no longer just another business crisis. This was the moment when ordinary life itself started falling apart: safety, plans, work, logistics, and even the understanding of what tomorrow would look like.

After some time, we relocated to western Ukraine. Once logistics slowly started functioning again, I managed to move part of the team and reopen a new workshop. We started working again. I was able to save materials and part of the equipment, but much of it was lost. After one of the bombings, the building where my workshop had been located was partially destroyed.

And once again, I had to start almost from zero.

But this time felt different.

Much heavier.

Because this was no longer just another failed business attempt or a mistake that experience alone could fix. War changes everything. I had to think not only about myself, but also about the people who worked with me. I felt responsible for my team because, during that time, stability and income mattered more than ever.

Later, I was forced to move to another country. I needed medical treatment or surgery while also trying to rebuild life under completely new circumstances. Physically, I was no longer in Ukraine, but I never abandoned the business. The workshop remained in western Ukraine, the team stayed there, and I continued doing everything I could to hold everything together.

It became one of the hardest periods of my life. I returned to the kitchen and worked as a chef again because it was the profession I knew, and I needed to support my family. I had not yet learned the language, everything around me felt unfamiliar, and at the same time, I was trying to keep the business alive, pay debts, support the people depending on me, and avoid losing something that had taken years to build.

For almost two years, it felt like I was surviving rather than truly living. Orders were few, debts were many, and responsibility never disappeared. But slowly, things started stabilizing again. I paid off debts, kept the workshop alive, kept the team together, and continued moving forward.

Today, the workshop is still located in western Ukraine. Every product is still handmade. And my core principle has never changed.

Despite everything I had been through, I never stopped believing in one simple thing: a quality product made honestly will always find the right person.

Over the years, many things have changed. I changed. My approach to work changed. Technologies, materials, production scale, my understanding of business, and even my vision of what I want to build in the future all changed. But one thing has remained exactly the same: my principles.

Quality must always come first.

A product should bring enjoyment.

The price should always be fair.

That is exactly why, for many years, I have tried to avoid constantly raising prices, even when materials, production, and logistics become more expensive. Of course, I continue improving technologies, constructions, materials, and production processes, but for me, it is important that people still receive an honest balance between quality and price. I never wanted to build a brand where prices increase simply because they can. I have always wanted people who choose my products to feel that they received more than they expected.

Over time, I realized that one project alone could no longer fully express all the ideas I had in mind.

That is how HUNTER and UTOPIA were born.

Both projects are built around different philosophies of materials, feeling, and the overall experience of the product.

In , I use softer, more flexible, and more comfortable materials designed for long wear, comfort, and a more delicate feeling. This project is about balance, comfort, and adapting naturally to everyday life.

 follows a completely different philosophy. Denser leather, premium materials, a stronger sense of structure, a more substantial feel, and a deeper focus on construction, form, and durability. This project is about character, product architecture, and the feeling of true leather craftsmanship.

I have big plans.

I want to open physical showrooms around the world. I want to build something much bigger around all of this. Not just a store, and not just another accessories brand.

I have an idea that is still not fully finished. It continues evolving together with me.

But the core idea is very simple: I want people to receive more than just a product.

I want them to feel like they are becoming part of something bigger. I want there to be shared values, a philosophy, people with a similar mindset, and the feeling that you are part of something real.

And what matters most to me is this: when this idea is finally complete, every single customer will become part of it. Even those who supported me at the very beginning, when everything was only starting.

Because I genuinely value every person who has ever chosen my work.

If you are interested in learning more about the materials, leather types, and the approach behind product construction and long-term care, you can also explore the LEATHER TYPES & LEATHER PROCESSING and LEATHER CARE GUIDE articles.

This story is still not finished.

Honestly, I do not think this is the kind of text that gets written once for an entire lifetime. Over time, it will continue changing together with me, together with the projects, mistakes, victories, and new experiences.

But when I look back, I know one thing for certain.

Everything started with small scraps of leather, childhood curiosity, and the simple desire to create something with my own hands.

What comes next, life is still writing that story itself.

And maybe one day, you will become part of it.