My Time as a Saddler
I’ve always had a strong will and never really believed in limitations — even when people kept telling me, “You can’t make money from horses. They’re just a hobby and they cost money.”
But in my logical mind, I figured that someone must be making money from horses. After all, the people who make tack and equipment must earn something — otherwise, who would supply feed and gear? There were also riding schools, I thought, making money from their students.
Creativity has always been one of my strong sides. As a child, I had the chance to attend evening classes at a youth school, where you could sign up for different courses — completely free of charge. I wanted to attend all of them, but I had to choose, and I ended up picking ceramics and leatherwork.
It didn’t take long before I wanted to try making a bridle. They let me — as long as I paid for the materials myself, since they were expensive.
I loved it! And that’s when I realized I could actually become a saddler.
As I’ve told before, it was good connections that helped me get an apprenticeship with a saddler in Copenhagen, where I could learn the trade. It was exciting — and the feeling of being able to create such beautiful things, especially for horses, was amazing.
The saddler I worked with made, among other things, pony harnesses, which were hard to find back then. These were real harnesses in miniature size — not just a simple breast collar and bridle with blinkers and an emblem.
With that experience, I thought I could start my own saddlery — because that’s exactly what I wanted.
It’s not easy to start a business before people know who you are and what kind of work you do. I got all sorts of odd jobs — farmers came with their old harnesses, patched together with wire and baling twine.
I didn’t know what to charge — I didn’t want to be too cheap, but I also wanted people to come back.
Building trust takes time, but I did good work, and over time, it paid off.
I learned to make things you couldn’t buy at Börjes — like very small halters or very large ones. Cheap products are always made in standard sizes, so it was a big advantage to be able to make a halter fitted to each horse. I also made sure to use high-quality materials, so the products would last.
I also made other things — fine rifle slings for hunters, which became quite popular. I made equipment for the fire brigade and arm guards for the police when they trained dogs.
Building trust among farmers had another side too.
I remember once when someone knocked on the door. I went out to open it, and there stood a man with a harness. He looked right past me, as if he was searching for someone inside, and asked if he could speak to the saddler.
With a little smile, I said, “That’s me.”
He stared at me for a long moment and said, “Well… I wasn’t expecting that.”
But I got to repair his harness — and in the end, he was actually satisfied with the result.
I never managed to make a full living from saddlery. I always needed some extra income.
I rented out boxes and my barn, ran evening courses for ABF, bought young horses to break in, worked part-time at a hotel, and even picked strawberries.
Still, I enjoyed it — because I could decide over my own time and work from home. And I met lots of lovely people along the way.
When I started dealing horses, I stopped working as a saddler. But I’ve still had great use for the skills — whether fitting tack or doing repairs.
I still have my tools and quite a bit of leather left, even though I haven’t touched them for years.
And now the time has come again — I need to make Maersk’s harness bigger so it fits him.
And I realized… I’m actually looking forward to picking up a stitching awl again.
