WILKINSON’S FINE GOODS
*Doing business as Bell and Oak at time of publication
BETWEEN TWO TABLES
Inside the heirloom workshop of Denton’s finest leather craftsman, Clint Wilkinson
By Suzanne O’Dell
He’s tall, sturdy-looking, thoroughly tattooed, and all at once, surprisingly unimposing. Clint Wilkinson, the visionary maker behind Bell and Oak leather goods, could easily fool you with his casual demeanor and soft-spoken Texas drawl. But his roots in leather-craft run deep, as does his passion for the emerging renaissance of the American-made movement. Ingrained in every notch of the signature hand-stamped Bell and Oak crest is a robust family legacy, six generations deep of Dentonites—both cowboys and artisans fueled by the indomitable spirit of the American pioneer.
The Place
Bell and Oak Leather Goods Workshop, Weldon’s Saddle Shop and Western Wear, Denton, TX
The moment you cross the threshold onto the smooth cement floor of Weldon’s Saddle shop, the rich smell of leather, stout and nutty, greets you with an honest embrace.
It’s a feeling reminiscent of stepping inside an old country store, where tradition says as much about where you’ve come from as it does about where you’re going.
The afternoon light beams through the storefront windows, landing on rows of impressive hand-tooled saddles in hazy yellow droplets, perhaps decades old, not unlike the seasoned workshop where they dance.
Weldon's Saddle shop and Western Wear is a sprawling corner storefront built in the 1920's and later acquired by Clint's grandfather, Weldon Burgoon, in 1957.
It stands today as an iconic Denton landmark modestly situated on the corner of Bell Avenue and Oak Street.
The wood paneled walls don pictures of cowboys and rodeo awards, western memorabilia, with several glass display cases lined against it containing respectable cowboy wares: spurs, horseshoes, and stirrups.
Aisles of Wrangler jeans, flannel shirts, boots, and hats are also sprinkled with nostalgic items—a paperback copy of Cormac McCarthy's, No Country for Old Men stands beside a weathered photograph of a stoic Indian Osage-- an impressive alter to the rodeo gods of old.
Every item displayed emanates the time-honored Texas tradition of family, hard work, and quality craftsmanship-- from rows of ornate western saddles, to the sepia photographs illuminated by the dusty grins of cowboys and ranch hands--the legacy of a life characterized by hard work that was anything but simplistic, but was simple nonetheless.
All the while, country music seeps lazily through the stereo—droning Willie Nelson, Hank Williams, and George Strait. This is the soundtrack of a life where what’s concrete matters more than the unattainable.
Situated towards the rear of the store is the hallowed workshop area where Clint crafts leather goods for his fledgling leather goods brand, Bell and Oak. I find him hunched over the counter, arms folded and relaxed as he talks to a customer who needs the strap on her leather bag repaired.
The Man
“I don’t actually do this kind of repair work Ma’am, but I’d be happy to refer you to a buddy of mine who does this kind of thing all the time. He does really good work.”
Our host is a seasoned expert in a number of fields —leather craft, motocross, marketing, media, design--yet he remains humble, unassuming, and refreshingly good-humored.
He speaks slowly and deliberately, unhurried and unencumbered by the demands of our film crew’s constantly chirping cell phones.
As we speak, he sits perched on a rolling stool situated between two time-worn wooden tables. A dark colored ball cap is pushed back on his head, while his hands firmly grasp the edges of a striking piece of legendary Horween leather, directly sourced from trusted U.S. tanneries. His eyes are calm, but intent at the task at hand.
A leather lanyard swings from his custom Bell and Oak belt, English Bridle leather stained Saddle Tan, if I'm not mistaken.
Cut, burnished, dyed, and waxed by hand.
Every morning, Clint rises to a 5:30 wake-up call and heads to the gym. Then it’s home, where his wife and children—a boy, age six, and a girl, age 2—are just beginning their day.
“I sit at the breakfast table with them and eat oatmeal with raspberries, almonds, and honey, every day,” Clint says, a broad smile breaking through his evenly kept 5-o’clock shadow.
“When I get to the shop, I sweep the floor, blow off the parking lot, and sit down to draw something. I try to draw something every day to keep my skills sharp. It’s like a warm up before the day begins.”
He pauses again to roll up the sleeves of his denim shirt, revealing the souvenirs of his past--tattooed sleeves from his legendary days as a graphic designer and budding entrepreneur in the motocross industry. (You can also see the evidence of this on his beautifully designed website)
From the age of 11, after his parents gifted him with his very own dirt bike, Clint’s attention drifted from his family’s heirloom business to the fast and furious world of motocross.
“I think growing up, people thought I was just a punk on a dirt bike who didn’t care. And the thing is, they were probably right.”
Even after giving up the sport in his early twenties, the pull of the industry led him to take his eye for graphic design to help launch a multi-media start-up with some buddies—the first of its kind in the motocross world.
Ten years into the rat race, despite a great deal of success, Clint was running on empty. The thought of continuing the never-ending sprint to success stirred the Dentonite to the tipping point of personal crisis.
“I finally decided that I had to take a break. So I took a month off and just worked on leather here in the back of my grandfather’s shop.”
The break turned out to be the impetus, the dream that sparked the idea of Bell and Oak. It was also the beginning of a quest—or rather a return—to a time where life was simple, straight forward, genuinely authentic.
“For me, when you stay up so late every night, and you wake up early, you just aren’t yourself. It took me about a year before I started acting like me again.”
“Really? You seem really laid back.”
“Before, I was more hurried, acting exactly like the computer I used to stare at for hours every day. I couldn’t sit here and have a conversation with you. I couldn’t find the words to say because I wasn’t present in the moment.”
Pausing thoughtfully to consider my questions, Clint watches his hands move rhythmically across the leather.
One of the hardest things to do in leatherworking is not to finish before you’re through. My grandfather taught me that. There are a lot of people who try to cut corners, whether it’s an edge that needs work or a simple touch up on a wallet that people leave because they don’t want to take the extra time. To me, if you don’t finish before you’re through, that makes a perfect product.
“What’s different now that you’ve left the graphic design industry entirely?”
I listen a lot more. I don’t think you start to take note of those things until you’re older. It took having a family to really appreciate a family. It finally started soaking in: At the end of the day, money isn’t everything. It may sound cliché, but family is what it is . . . family really is everything.
The Legacy
Even though Bell and Oak has only been out of the gate since April, 2014, Clint’s simple designs and quality leather goods have inspired a national following.
He has expanded his product line from the “Essentials”—belts and wallets—to include a range of incredible items—iPhone and iPad cases, coasters, and even custom dog collars.
In the Fall, Bell and Oak is poised to release a limited edition line of hand-tooled items sure to strike a love-sick chord in the heart of every true cowboy.
Clint plans to incorporate his signature tooling style—the Sheridan—named after its town of origin in Wyoming.
“The packaging is also going to be really unique. I’m working with a bunch of local artists: a local water colorist, Pastrana wood-working studios, and a photographer to really make this line special.”
“That sounds like an awesome opportunity to collaborate with other makers. Do you have any advice for other craftsman in the biz?”
You’re going to have to be in it for the long haul. You’re not going to make a whole lot of money upfront. It’s about the art and the craft of what you’re doing. And you have to care about that more than the money, otherwise you shouldn’t pursue it.
My grandfather is 84 years old and he still comes into work every day, Monday through Saturday. And he does that because he loves it, and because he cares. If you’re willing to make that sacrifice, you’re in it for the right reasons.
“Where do you see yourself in five to ten years and how will you measure your success? How will you know that all of this has been worth it?”
In five to ten years? Hell, I hope to be right here, still in downtown, Denton, Texas. I hope to have a pretty well-known following. I hope that my kids are right here with me learning how to work with leather. I hope that I’m still right here in my granddad’s western shop, making quality leather products.
He pauses again to gather his thoughts, slowly twirling a sliver of scrap leather between his thumb and index finger.
“Success to me is raising your kids the right way. Teaching them to work hard. Have fun at what you do. Wake up every day with a reason to really smile.—that’s success. It’s about living a simple life.”
