Yasuhara Momo 100 43mm f/6.4 Soft Focus 43mm

The Yasuhara Momo 100 is a 43mm f/6.4 soft focus pancake lens for Nikon F that produces deliberately dreamy, glow-heavy images with no post-processing needed. It's tiny, well-built, and optically the worst lens we've ever tested, but that's the entire point. At around $200, it's a one-trick pony for portrait and street shooters who want instant vintage character. Anyone needing sharpness or low-light capability should look elsewhere.

We ran this lens through our usual benchmarks, and let's just say the numbers are hilarious. Optical score: 0th percentile. That's not a typo. It's the absolute bottom of our entire lens database. Resolution falls off a cliff the moment you move away from dead center, contrast is low across the board, and spherical aberration is so heavy it looks like a feature, because it is. At f/6.4, you'd expect at least some central sharpness, but even there, details smear into a pleasant, glowy mush. Stop down to f/8 or f/11 and it tightens up a tiny bit, but you're still getting soft focus. It's consistent. Predictably blurry.

In the real world, that means portraits come out looking like they were shot through a thin layer of fog, in a good way. Skin texture disappears, highlights bloom, and backgrounds render as smooth blobs even when they shouldn't. Street shots take on a nostalgic, almost painted quality. But don't even think about landscapes or anything with fine detail. Our landscape score came back at a pitiful 16.8 out of 100. Leaves turn to green soup. Architecture lines wobble. This lens has one job, and it does that job stubbornly, refusing to be anything else.

Direct competitors are tough to name because this lens is so niche. The closest in spirit might be a Lensbaby Composer or a Velvet 56, both of which let you dial in softness. Those cost more but offer aperture control and adjustable effects. The Lensbaby is also more versatile, with interchangeable optics, while the Momo 100 is a one-trick pony. For pure soft focus on a budget, many shooters just grab a cheap UV filter and smear a bit of petroleum jelly on it. That's free, but inconsistent. The Momo 100 gives you repeatable results in a metal jacket, and that's the whole sales pitch.

If you're open to manual primes that aren't deliberately blurry, the Fujifilm XF 35mm f/2 XC or even a vintage Nikkor 50mm f/1.4 offer actual sharpness and character. Those lenses are miles better for everyday shooting. But they won't give you that instant, dream-sequence softness without editing. So the Momo 100 sits alone as a dedicated soft-focus prime. It's not for everyone, and it's not even for most people, but if the look clicks, you'll already know why you want it.

At around $180 to $248, the Momo 100 costs as much as a decent used Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 or a brand-new budget prime. But those lenses actually try to be sharp. What you're paying for here is the build, the novelty, and the fact that nobody else is making a dedicated soft focus pancake for Nikon F in 2024. If you've been hunting for an in-camera soft effect without messing with filters or post-processing, this is it. Just know that the same money buys you a Soviet-era Helios 44-2 with swirly bokeh and far more light-gathering ability, or a Lensbaby with adjustable softness. But neither of those options is this small, this light, or this deliberately wacky. Value is entirely subjective here, and if the soft-focus look is worth $200 to you, you won't find a more convenient package.

The Yasuhara Momo 100 is one of those lenses that makes you do a double take. It's a 43mm f/6.4 prime for full-frame Nikon F cameras, but spec sheets don't tell the weird story. This thing is a pancake, barely thicker than a body cap, and it's designed from the ground up to be soft. Not slightly soft. Not character soft. We're talking glow-everywhere, halation-heavy, vintage-dream-sequence soft. If you've ever shot a Lensbaby or smeared vaseline on a UV filter, you already know the vibe. The Momo 100 puts that look into a tiny, metal-barreled package with no electronics, no autofocus, and zero apologies.

Who is this for? Honestly, it's for the tinkerers. The film shooters slapping it on an old F3 for dreamy street shots. The portrait photographers who want to skip the Photoshop softening and get glow straight out of camera. It's a novelty, but a charming one. At $180 to $248, it's not throwaway money, but it's also not a serious optical instrument. Think of it like a Holga lens machined by someone who actually cared about build quality. Our database puts the build in the 92nd percentile, which checks out. The barrel feels dense and the aperture ring clicks with authority. Everything else about it, optically speaking, is a deliberate trainwreck.

But here's the thing: a lens that ranks dead last in our optical benchmarks can still be a blast to use. The Momo 100 is not trying to be sharp. It's trying to be a specific look, and it hits that look consistently. If you're the kind of shooter who owns a Helios for swirl and a Petzval for swirly bokeh, this little guy might earn a permanent spot in your bag. If you pixel-peep test charts, you're going to have a bad time.

Anyone who needs even occasional sharpness should stay far away. Landscape, architecture, product, and macro shooters will find this lens infuriating. The 50cm minimum focus distance alone kills any close-up potential, and the mushiness makes detail work impossible. If you're a hybrid shooter who wants one lens for portraits and sharp candids, grab a Nikkor 50mm f/1.8G or a used 85mm f/1.8 instead. Even an old manual 50mm f/1.4 with a softening filter will give you more control and better resale value. Skip the Momo 100 unless you're specifically building a soft-focus kit and know exactly what you're signing up for.

For the right person, the Momo 100 is a tiny treasure. Portrait photographers who want a consistent, vintage soft-focus effect straight out of camera will love it on both digital and film bodies. Street shooters who vibe with a Holga-like aesthetic but want something that fits in a pocket will find it liberating. It's also a fantastic conversation starter at photo walks, because it looks completely ridiculous on a modern DSLR. Lean into the weirdness and you'll get images nobody else is making.

If your work demands sharpness, even occasionally, skip this entirely. The same goes for anyone who shoots in dim light often or needs autofocus. But if you understand that this lens is basically a creative effect housed in a beautifully machined barrel, it's hard not to respect what Yasuhara has done. It's not a good lens in the traditional sense. It's a great tool for a very specific job, and that job is making everything look like a memory you're already forgetting.