How a little mistake became a signature detail

When I made the very first Smithco backpack, I had no idea a simple oversight would turn into one of its most practical and recognisable features.

It started with the zip for the secure back pocket — a detail that needed to be both subtle and functional. I carefully marked out where the zip would go, but as is often the case with first versions, it took a few tries to get the placement just right. After a series of adjustments, the leather was left with multiple markings... and eventually, I punched the bottom end of the cutout slightly off alignment with the top. Not ideal.

At first, I was gutted. I thought I might have wasted a good piece of leather — something that always feels like a punch to the gut when you're working with full grain. But instead of scrapping it, I sat there staring at it, feeling frustrated and a bit deflated. But I couldn’t just leave it like that — something in me needed to fix it. And somewhere between all that stubbornness and a bit of quiet thinking, the solution came to me.

What if I could cover the bottom of the zip with something purposeful?

That’s when the zip grip tab was born — a small piece of leather placed right at the end of the zip. It not only hid the misalignment but actually improved the function. Anyone who's tried to close a zip on soft material knows the frustration: the leather folds, shifts, resists. This little tab gives you something to hold onto, making it easy to close the zip smoothly every time.

It looked good. It worked brilliantly. And it stayed.

Now, every Smithco backpack has that zip grip tab — not because it was in the original design, but because a mistake pushed me into finding something better.

That’s the beauty of making things by hand. Every bump, every detour, every wrong turn... it all becomes part of the story. And sometimes, it even becomes a feature.