What began as one founder, one workshop, and one frustration with mass-produced accessories has grown into a studio of craftspeople in Dhaka making cases that mean something to the people who carry them.
Photographed at our Dhaka studio, spring 2026.
It started in a one-room workshop above a tailor’s shop in Dhanmondi, with a desktop printer that jammed twice an hour and a stack of blank cases ordered from a wholesaler in Karwan Bazar. The frustration was specific: every case on every shelf in every store looked the same — the same glossy florals, the same matte black, the same shrink-wrapped sameness. I wanted a case that felt like it belonged to me, and I couldn’t find one. So I made one. Then a friend asked for one. Then her sister did.
The first ten cases went to people I knew by name. The eleventh went to a stranger who had seen one on her cousin’s phone. By the fortieth case the printer had been replaced, and by the hundredth we had moved into the studio we work from now — two rooms, north-facing light, a long table where every case is inspected before it ships. The wholesaler’s number is still in my phone. I haven’t called it in almost a year.
Somewhere between the tenth case and the thousandth, the work stopped being about cases. It became about the small, specific objects we carry through every hour of every day, and whether they deserve any thought at all. We decided ours would.
“We’re not making accessories. We’re making the small piece of you that you’ll hold all day.”
There are eight of us now. Three in the print room, two on finishing, one running the studio, two answering emails and packing boxes. The work is slower than it could be. We could outsource the printing to a factory across town that would cut our turnaround in half, and we have, on three separate occasions, declined to. The cases that leave our door pass through hands we know.
Most weeks a stranger sends a photo of their case in some city we’ve never been to, and we put it on the wall above the table. The wall is mostly full. We will need a bigger wall.
Dual-layer TPU, polycarbonate, Italian leather from a tannery we visited twice before we placed an order. We pick materials that look better at month six than month one. The cheaper option is always available; we never choose it.
Twelve collections, each rooted in a specific aesthetic tradition — from sacred geometry to hand-block print to quiet luxury. No generic patterns. Every motif has a story we can tell you about, and most of them we will, if you ask.
Every case is printed, finished, and packed in our Dhaka studio. We know the people doing the work. We pay them properly. We can show you the building, and most weeks of the year, you are welcome to come see it.
We’re small enough that orders feel personal. We read every review. We answer every email — usually within the day, almost never longer than two. We remember when you order a second case, and sometimes a third.
Founder & Design
Started Kholosh in 2024 after five years in product design. Lives in Dhanmondi with too many phone cases.
Studio Lead
Runs the print room and quality control. Trained in textile design at BUET.
Customer Experience
Reads every review and answers every email. Believes good service is a craft.
Want a case that means something?
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