Has UK Manufacturing Gone to the Dogs?

It’s a question we find ourselves asking more often than we used to. Not out loud, usually. More as a low-level hum in the background — at trade shows, in buying meetings, occasionally in emails that begin with “We love your products, but…”

The “but” is almost always the same.

They look very similar to other collars. And those are much cheaper.

On the surface, that’s a fair observation. Leather dog collars haven’t changed shape much in the last hundred years. A strap is still a strap. A buckle is still a buckle. Tan still looks like tan. If you squint hard enough, most collars will look broadly alike.

But looking similar and being made the same are two very different things.

Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost the habit of asking how something is made, where, and by whom. We’ve become fluent in surface detail — colour, width, hardware finish — while the deeper story has slipped quietly out of view.

Modern manufacturing is very good at producing convincing facsimiles. Designs travel fast. Production travels faster. What’s harder to see — unless you actively look for it — is the quality of the materials, the standards behind them, and the conditions under which they’re produced.

Take hardware. Solid brass and brass-plated fittings can look almost identical when new. One will age beautifully, resist corrosion, and last for years. The other is cheaper, lighter, and will eventually reveal what’s underneath. The difference isn’t aesthetic — it’s structural.

Or leather. Not all leather is suitable for life with dogs: mud, rain, salt, friction, pulling, rolling, and daily wear. We use leather that is specifically processed to withstand those conditions — to soften with use rather than crack, to age rather than fail. That processing costs more, and it takes longer.

Provenance matters too. We source our leather directly from tanneries and suppliers in the UK and Europe. That means strict environmental controls — the kind that prevent rivers being polluted and soil being contaminated. It also means traceability. Leather is a by-product of the food industry, and where animal welfare standards are enforced, how that leather is obtained matters.

Those standards are not universal.

Cheaper alternatives often prioritise the lowest possible material cost. Environmental impact, animal welfare, and long-term durability are, at best, secondary considerations. Labour conditions can be opaque. Supply chains are long. Accountability is thin.

We choose not to support that.

At Dogs & Horses, we still make our collars the slow way. Leather is cut, edges are finished, holes are punched (usually all of them — though yes, occasionally one slips through without any, which makes for a memorable customer email and a sharp intake of breath in the workshop). Buckles are stitched on by people, not machines. Mistakes are visible because hands are involved. And when something goes wrong, it lands straight back with us — owned, fixed, and learned from.

That approach is slightly unorthodox in today’s market. It’s slower. It costs more. It involves visible labour and real decisions about materials, sourcing, and standards.

But it’s also deliberate.

This isn’t about drawing lines in the sand or criticising how others operate. Not everyone wants — or needs — what we make. But for those who do have a choice — retailers, buyers, and dog owners alike — it’s worth understanding that price differences are rarely accidental.

“Made” is not the same as “designed”. Nor “finished”. Nor “assembled”.

So has UK manufacturing gone to the dogs?

Not quite.

But it does rely on people — where they can — choosing to support businesses that uphold high standards in materials, welfare, labour, and environmental responsibility. Quietly, consistently, and with their eyes open.