Words and Photography by Milena Majda
In a world flooded with mass-produced surf gear, Leo Le Blanc is carving out his own path—handcrafting custom wetsuits in Biarritz, France. More than just a skilled craftsman, Leo’s warmth and sincerity shine through. When I visited his studio, he greeted me with a big, tooth-gapped smile that set the tone for our chat. What began as a lockdown passion project has now grown into Leo Wetsuits—a brand grounded in simplicity, quality, and authenticity.
For a culture that prides itself on being core, local, and “by surfers, for surfers,” it’s ironic how many of us still end up buying suits from the same corporate giants. The appeal of accessibility and heavy marketing often overshadows the truth: most factory-made wetsuits just don’t hold up to the craftsmanship and longevity of an independently made one.
Discovering Leo’s work felt like a breath of fresh air after seeing one too many cheetah and floral print suits in the lineup. We talked about his journey, what sets his wetsuits apart—and even teeth whitening.
From Pandemic Project to Craft Brand
Milena Majda: How did you get into making wetsuits?
Leo Le Blanc: I just wanted one for myself. During COVID, I had nothing to do, so I gave it a shot. I found a professional seamstress to help me with patterns and started experimenting with really bad neoprene—just gluing and stitching to see what would work. It was a hobby at first, but once I saw potential, I started investing in tools, quality materials, and a proper sewing machine. The early suits were terrible, but fixing them taught me a lot. Friends started asking me for suits—on the condition that I’d fix them if they broke.
M: So you’re self-taught?
L: I was for about a year, but I wanted to go deeper. While on a surf trip in California, a company in Hawaii invited me to work with them. I spent three months in Oahu in 2022, learning everything I could about suits for surfing, spearfishing, and freediving. That really leveled me up.
M: Doesn’t sound like a bedroom hobby—where did you start?
L: My first studio was at Robin Falxa’s place—probably the best surfer I know. It was chaos. A marble table too low to work on, ten cats running around… pure madness. After returning from the U.S., I got my own space at Finish Line Atelier just outside Biarritz. I share it with Pierre Kulundzic and Tom Morat, both amazing shapers and glassers.
M: What machines and materials did you start with?
L: My first machine was a basic blind stitch, good for hemming pants—not ideal for wetsuits. Then I got a proper blind stitch machine, plus machines for zippers and zig-zag stitching. I tested a ton of glues. The best one I found is Italian, but in Hawaii, they had this insane industrial glue that didn’t even need stitching. You can’t get that in Europe because of chemical restrictions.
M: Ever try those crazy-strong U.S. teeth whitening strips?
L: I wanted to! But I broke my front teeth as a kid—they’re ceramic now, so whitening would look nuts.
M: What goes into a quality wetsuit?
L: I started with cheap neoprene from Germany just to test patterns. Now I use Yamamoto neoprene from Japan—super durable and high-quality. I work with types like smooth skin, shark skin, nylon-lined neoprene, and even titanium-lined for warmth. I’m currently testing one with a spandex layer for better flexibility. Always trying to find the best balance of stretch, warmth, and durability.
M: How sustainable is your process?
L: I upcycle old wetsuits when I can, and I’m working on a project with a shoe company that recycles neoprene for soles. I mainly use limestone-based neoprene—it’s better than petroleum-based, though still not perfect. I’ve worked with Yulex (used by Patagonia), but prefer Yamamoto’s recycled fishnet linings. There’s no such thing as a fully sustainable wetsuit, but making durable suits and repairing them is the best way forward.
M: What’s your design approach?
L: Keep it simple. Mostly black suits, no flashy colors—unless someone asks. I play with textures: mixing smooth skin and shark skin for subtle contrast. It’s about function with quiet style.
M: How do you adapt to trends?
L: I don’t really follow trends, but I notice shifts. More women-focused suits are emerging—like Atmosea. Women’s suits are trickier to design, but also more fun. I collaborated with Lea Domingues for Acid Magazine—it looked like a bodysuit built into a full suit. Technically challenging, but it turned out amazing.
There’s also a wave of fashion-heavy surf brands from cities—New Amsterdam Surf Association, Stockholm Surfboard Club, etc. Some are overpriced. Still, it’s better than old-school Hawaiian flower boardshorts!
M: Biggest challenges?
L: Budget—especially early on. Convincing people that custom suits are worth it. Competing with big brands is tough. Neoprene prices keep rising—Yamamoto costs about €90/meter now, which is wild. I try to keep prices low: around €550 for a made-to-measure suit that lasts way longer than a €400 mass-produced one.
M: What’s next for Leo Wetsuits?
L: I’m working on collaborations—like with Fairly Normal, who showed my suits at Paris Fashion Week. I’d love to keep doing cool projects with cool brands and eventually build a team of surfers who travel, surf, and create content in my gear. A real brand family.
M: Planning to scale up production?
L: I’d like to offer standard-sized suits through a factory. Right now, it’s just me—Sophie (Tom Morat’s sister) helps with repairs, but otherwise, it’s a one-man show. I’m testing a French factory to keep production national. It’s a complex process, but fingers crossed!
Leo’s journey from DIY tinkering to respected wetsuit maker is a story of craft and passion. In a surf industry driven by scale and hype, Leo Wetsuits stands out for its simplicity, honesty, and soul.
Think about it—most surfers spend hours researching custom boards, obsessing over rails and fins. But wetsuits? We often settle for factory-made ones. Maybe it’s time to treat wetsuits like boards: invest in craftsmanship, support the makers, and value what we wear in the water.
Skip a few overpriced lattes. Hold off on that impulse buy. Instead, support the people who live and breathe surfing. Because if we want a surf culture that reflects our values, it starts with how—and where—we spend our money.
Check out Leo’s work at leowetsuits.com and his collaboration with Lea Domingues in the 6th edition of ACID Magazine: instagram.com/p/DdaLhamgvJJ
All photography by Milena Majda
