Photographed by Rojan Maguyon for the April 2025 Issue of Vogue Philippines
Léon Denim stitches together stories of heritage and rebellion.
Tucked away in an alley, the Léon Denim workshop secretly teems with life. From the outside, it appears to be an old machine shop, but, within its walls, it shows elements of the brand’s interests in heritage, craftsmanship, and all things vintage: Inside, sewing machines are lined along shelves awaiting restoration, their cogs and parts neatly arranged. A well-worn leather couch sits along its hallway, its cracks stitched with patches of denim while a pair of distressed jeans is framed on the wall. At its core, this workshop is dedicated to reviving the tradition of producing raw selvedge denim; garments that creative director Iver Aldas, along with partners Raul Lejano and brothers Jake and Albert Antig, have tried to perfect for over a decade.
Founded by four like-minded individuals, Léon Denim began as a personal project rooted in their shared love for the fabric, alongside bikes, whiskey, watches, photography, movies, and all the things that make up “Amekaji,” a subculture that reinterprets American casual through the lens of Japanese styling codes. Today, the label holds the distinction of being the first and only selvedge denim brand in the Philippines.
Despite having no formal tailoring background, each of them were passionate about the process of creating selvedge; a fabric woven on traditional shuttle looms. Unlike regular denim, which is often mass-produced on projectile looms that require stitching to prevent fraying, selvedge is tighter, more durable, and ages uniquely, developing a personalized fade over time that reflects the wearer’s lifestyle.
The concept for the label emerged during Aldas’ career as a photojournalist. While working, he encountered diverse fashion subcultures throughout Asia, which ultimately inspired the idea. “While documenting a flood in Thailand, I noticed a man wearing a Wabash jacket and hat, wearing selvedge denim pants,” he recalls. “It was a traditional railroad uniform, and that moment really struck me. It reminded me of the things I used to see as a kid and motivated me to pursue this craft.” This experience led him and Jake Antig to closely observe their local suit tailor in Poblacion, Makati. Through hands-on learning, they were able to teach themselves the fundamentals of garment construction, and eventually, they combined this knowledge with their technical expertise to restore old sewing machines.
Their attachment to nostalgia shapes the work that they do, resulting in pieces that feel as though it could have been worn by characters in a classic Western. In fact, a lot of their clothing is modeled after the films they used to watch as children: Look at Martin Sheen’s character, Kit Carruthers, in Badlands; a young, rebellious outlaw clad in a tucked-in plaid shirt and high-waisted denim trousers; or consider Marlon Brando’s Johnny Strabler in The Wild One, whose rugged persona is defined by his perfecto leather jacket, white tee, and cuffed jeans.
“There are so many old movies where their costumes are really just jeans,” Jake explains. “Look at old films and you’ll find that their jackets and jeans are really nice, and you realize this is basically what most denim people wear, that’s the type of fit that we want,” he adds. But for the group of designers, the most important aspect of producing denim outside of fit and construction is a pair’s wearability. With every batch, their ultimate goal is to create pieces that are meant to be lived in, not just admired. “In the 80s, I always used to have one pair that I always wore everyday,” Jake recalls, “so when we think about what we design for Léon, we want to recreate a garment that becomes a part of someone’s character.”
Iver echoes this sentiment. “When you take a really nice picture, that photo will last you a long time, to the point where you can even show it to your kids,” he says. “So when we decide to make something, we want to make it last for as long as we can.”
