Embedded Files
Chapter 1: The Fox and the Strap
Yoke is a solution to a personal problem. In the summer of 2023, I got in a tussle with a fox, and it ended with my camera strap bitten into (no animals or humans were harmed).
Chapter 2: Shouldering the Load
For months, I searched for the perfect strap. The solution I came to was not a strap. It was the Peak Design Clip. This setup served me well until my shoulders started hurting under the weight of the camera with the contents of my bag.
The clip did double duty and held my bag together when the buckle on the strap broke.
Chapter 3: Goldilocks
I once learned the difference between 'sumptuous' and 'scrumptious.' One spoke of luxury; the other, of substance.
That distinction never left me.
Most leather camera straps fall into two camps:
The minimalist single layer—sleeker but raw-edged, like a favourite t-shirt: comfortable, yet shapeless and flapping in the wind without structure.
The double layer—overbuilt like a horse’s bridle, coarse with busy stitching.
But why must we choose between refinement and restraint? Spending a hundred (or even two) on minimalist straps, no matter how premium the leather, felt odd. They were minimalist in both materials and workmanship. The rough sides of the leather were left exposed— it always seemed too unrefined. Imagine a high-end bag with the exposed raw side of the leather. Unthinkable. Yoke exists for those who want neither compromise nor excess. Not just sumptuous. Scrumptious.
Chapter 4: Cut, glue, punch, stitch, screw
My search for the perfect strap eventually transformed into a mission to design and make my own. This meant taking the leap of faith and investing two hides of full-grain leather; one brown, one black. I spent most of my waking time thinking about, making and testing my straps. It became a joke that I was running a sweatshop in my sister's home. Prototype after prototype came off the dining table. The high cost of the leather made prototyping an extremely stressful endeavour, seeing iteration after iteration failing. However, as the weeks passed, the straps began to take on a polished, refined look. After months of testing, I felt confident to introduce it to others.
Plasters were involved in the creation of the first hand sewn yoke.
When my close friend got married, I gifted him a strap. That strap was special, a one of one. Crafted from thick leather, it was a challenge to work with. But the real test was folding and hand sewing around 100 cm of waxed thread through tough leather.
Hand sewing entire lengths of straps doesn't make sense. It takes too much time. I had a vision for a product that ages well, and hand sewing saddle stitches was the only way for strong and repairable product.
The first hand sewn strap measured 75 cm took over 3 hours to stitch.
Chapter 5: Field Test
Up to this point, I was fascinated with simplifying the materials used, paring it down to two things: full-grain leather and brass. Brass was used in Leica cameras, and has proven to be robust. Why change what's not broken? However, we soon discovered that with abrasion, brass develops a patina, forming blue crystals.
A choice had to be made for the new material of the split rings. The safe choice was stainless steel — a time-tested material for split rings seen on everything from cheap keychains to luxury watches. But Yoke must have character. And titanium was plenty of character to work with.
Chapter 6: YOKE
Yoke started as a gift to me, and for the people around me. Yoke will always maintain the spirit of a gift; made just for the person who ordered it. Yoke is sincere and made with overbuilt simplicity; thoughtful considerations that the receipient might not even know.
Thank you for reading the story of Yoke. I hope, reading more about it and holding it, you'll love it as I do.
Yoke's story does not end here. If you have any thoughts or questions, do contact us! I'd love to hear from you.
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