The Workshop

Two craftsmen. One houseboat.

A married couple making things by hand, on the water, in north Georgia.

Our Story

It started as a hobby. Then it didn't.

DeWolfe Wyrks is Jordan and Fenris DeWolfe, husbands living on a houseboat in Georgia, making things with our hands in our spare time. What began as a way to wind down after long days has grown, slowly and on purpose, into a small side trade we love.

Jordan cuts the leather. Fenris strikes the metal. Neither of us has any interest in scaling up; we'd rather keep the bench small enough that we still recognize every piece that leaves it.

Commission a piece

The Two Benches

Different tools, same hands.

DeWolfe Leather

Jordan DeWolfe

Jordan handles every cut, stitch, and burnish on the leather side of the workshop. A former motion-graphics animator and film-industry veteran, an indie director, and a one-time gay men's life coach, he brings a designer's composition and a director's patience to a discipline that rewards both.

He works in high quality natural leather, brass hardware, and Ritza Tiger thread. No flourish where the leather will speak for itself. He is not interested in new; he is interested in once: a piece you buy once, carry for thirty years, and hand on.

DeWolfe Metal

Fenris DeWolfe

Fenris hammers, weaves, sand casts, and finishes every metal piece. He also carves the dies his pendants are cast from. A Norse historian specializing in Norse gender studies, his work is informed by a deep love of the period, what he calls "archeology grade" jewelry: pieces struck and cast to look as though they'd been unearthed at a settlement dig.

The roads to the bench have been winding: Navy veteran, Union film-industry set decorator, country-music morning-show radio host, graphic artist, voice actor, ten years in marketing as a creative producer/director, and an Irish folk singer on the side. He brings all of it to the forge.

What we believe

"Real things age into themselves. The patina is the point."

We make heritage goods. That word gets thrown around. For us it means we'd rather you bought one wallet from us than three from anyone else. We use high quality natural leather, solid copper, hand stitching, hand hammering. The pieces will look better in ten years than they do today. They are meant to be repaired, not replaced.

When we're not at the bench, we're probably at a Ren Faire, on the water, or digging through a Norse text together. We bring all of that into the work.

A short manifesto

Fewer, better, longer.

We are not against modern manufacturing. We are against disposability. The wallet that splits at the seams in eighteen months is not cheap; it is expensive twice. So we make things the long way: one hide at a time, one row of stitches at a time, with hardware you'd recognize on a tool from a hundred years ago.

A piece from this bench is meant to ride in a pocket, a pack, a glovebox, a hand. To pick up scratches that mean something. To be oiled, restitched, re-edged when it asks for it. To outlast the luggage it lives inside, the trips it takes, and possibly its first owner. That's the whole brief. There isn't a second one.

Field Notes

Word from the workshop.

Once a season: new pieces, small-batch drops, the occasional story from the bench. No noise.