Pierre Laborde works at a small table pressed against the wall of his Washington Heights apartment, just steps from his kitchen. It’s not a glossy fashion studio, no skyline views, no assistants rushing around. Just a tight space packed with color, cowhide, and conviction.
From that humble corner, he’s created one of the most talked-about fashion crazes on TikTok. Continue reading, for the beautiful story of a Haitian immigrant bag maker.
If you’ve been anywhere near the Grand Bazaar NYC on the Upper West Side lately, you’ve probably seen the line. Not for cronuts, not for sneakers, but for one thing, a Pierre Laborde bag. People wrap around the block before the market even opens, hoping to secure a ticket, yes, a ticket, just to shop his booth.
And to think, just a few years ago, he was lucky to sell one or two bags in a weekend.
Inside his apartment, there are more than 7,500 colors scattered across the room. Hundreds of templates are stacked neatly under a second table. Piles of vibrant cowhide rest in corners like edible candy for fashion lovers. This is not a factory. This is a one-man operation fueled by obsession.
Laborde’s love affair with style started long before New York. Growing up in Haiti, his parents had a tailor who made his clothes. Most kids would wear what they were given. Not Pierre. He would take those fresh pieces and rework them, tweak them, flip them into something that felt like him. This resonates with everyone who grew up watching their parents stretch a dollar and still dress sharp knows that energy. You make it your own, always.
When he moved to New York, he studied at the Fashion Institute of Technology and took industry jobs. But deep down, he didn’t want to just clock in. He wanted to create. So in 2008, he launched his own brand, long before social media could make or break you in nine seconds.
Every Pierre Laborde bag is handmade, cut and assembled by him. He selects each hide, matches every pattern, stitches every strap at a paint-splattered sewing station that tells its own 17-year story. He even walks to vendors across the city to personally choose the straps. No shortcuts, no mass production.
For years, he sold at Grand Bazaar NYC, the city’s oldest weekly market. Some weekends were discouraging. He admits there were moments he felt like it might be over. Any immigrant entrepreneur knows that feeling, when the dream feels heavier than the rent.
Then, in the fall of 2024, everything changed.
Grace Masingale, a fashion-focused social media strategist, stumbled upon his booth. At that moment, she was his only customer. She immediately saw what others had missed, craftsmanship that reminded her of Tom Ford, but without the four-figure price tag. His bags cost hundreds, not thousands.
She posted a simple nine-second TikTok telling her followers to blow his brand up.
They listened.
The video racked up more than half a million views. A week later, his booth was packed. By 2025, the buzz had turned into a full-blown frenzy. Some weekends, his bags sell out in 30 minutes. One woman drove in at 4 a.m. to make it in time. Another flew from Los Angeles and arrived so early the market was still closed.
To manage the chaos, Laborde began distributing online tickets for his booth. People even try to resell those spots on Instagram. It’s surreal for a man who once watched customers pass him by.
Still, the sudden fame hasn’t changed his philosophy. During the holidays, he worked 100-hour weeks, producing around 200 bags weekly, even though demand could easily swallow 1,500. He lost his appetite from the grind, but not his purpose.
His living room doubles as a mini showroom. Finished bags hang where family photos might be. Fifty more sit in a closet, waiting for their new homes.
Customers beg him to sell online, but his website is waiting list only. Patience is part of the brand.
He has no interest in mass production. No plans to drastically raise prices. His bags remain in the few-hundred-dollar range, because for him, this is not about chasing luxury status. It’s about craft, culture, and connection.
He describes each bag like a child. You don’t rush a child into the world. You prepare it.
For many, this story hits home. An immigrant creative, grinding quietly for years, overlooked until someone finally shines a light. The success looks sudden, but the sacrifice was decades in the making.
Money, he says, doesn’t guarantee happiness. Passion does. Watching someone light up when they hold one of his bags, that’s the real payoff.
From a tiny table in Washington Heights, Pierre Laborde didn’t just build a brand. He built proof that staying true to your roots, your pace, and your craft can still break the internet.
