Jacquard cardigan
Two Peninsulas.
$168
Lightning bolts, navy and cream, and a cut generous enough for a sweater underneath. It is the coat you wear inside, the one that goes from the porch to the bonfire to the good chair without being asked.
Goods for a good winter.Some things
Some things
are worth
bringing home.
Part museum shop. Part up-north souvenir counter.
All Michigan.
Collection preview · Orders are not open.
Every up-north town has one: a store at the end of the plowed road, where the coffee is free if you are shoveling and someone behind the counter already knows the forecast.
We built ours the same way. Everything on these shelves started as a page of the magazine, a town, a tall tale, a recipe or a bad week in February, so every piece links back to where it came from. Walk the aisles in the order the day goes: warm layers first, coffee second, then the long, snowed-in afternoon.
The heavy layers.
The bell over the door is louder than it needs to be. Somebody stamps their boots, somebody else says “cold enough for you,” and nobody answers, because it is. The first aisle is the one you came for.
Chore jacket
The Night Shift.
$138
Heavy canvas, a blanket lining and pockets sized for gloves you will lose anyway. Made for the people who keep the town running after dark, and for everyone else who likes looking like they do.
Heavyweight sweatshirt
The U.P. Is Colder.
$62
A fact, stated plainly, on the front of a very warm sweatshirt. Trolls will understand.
Garment-dyed crew
Deer Study.
$64
A quiet sweatshirt with a loud animal on it. Sleeping Bear, in ink.
Woven scarf
Quiet Season.
$58
Long enough to wrap twice and still blow sideways off a pier. The lake, rendered in thread.
Holiday knit
Very Serious Cherries.
$92
An ugly sweater with a straight face. Traverse City grows three-quarters of the nation’s tart cherries and would like that acknowledged.
Oversized tee
The graphic layer.
$38
A big deer across the back, for the thermal-under-a-tee crowd. Layer accordingly.
Lighthouse tee
Grand Haven.
$34
For the pier that turns into an ice sculpture every January.
Navy type tee
Winter Department.
$32
“32° is shorts weather.” Said by someone, somewhere, every year.
Rib-knit beanie
The everyday winter.
$30
Small deer. Big ears covered.
Embroidered cap
The daily cap.
$32
For the drive up, before the hat-hair matters.
Five-panel cap
The two-tone edition.
$34
Shanty-approved. Fish not included.
Coffee, then the forecast.
There is a pot on the back counter and a radio tuned to the weather. You will hear the words “lake effect” four times before you pay. Pour something and stay a minute.
Whole-bean coffee
The First Shovel.
$18
A dark roast for the morning the driveway disappears. Brew a pot, then go negotiate with the plow ridge.
Stoneware mug
Lake Effect.
$24
The map of a snow band, wrapped around a mug. Holds more than a forecaster will commit to.
Enamel camp mug
A window seat.
$22
Chips like a good one should. Hot chocolate, ideally, with a committee.
Everyday mug
Good morning. Eventually.
$20
For the hour between the alarm and the second cup.
Pair of tumblers
A brighter cup.
$36
Coral and red, for the grey stretch of February when color is a medical necessity.
Tea tin
Nobody’s Going Out.
$16
Loose-leaf, for the night the group chat agrees to stay home.
Cherries in syrup
Very Serious Cherries.
$14
Northern Michigan tart cherries. For pie in January.
Snowed in. Stay put.
By afternoon the roads are a rumor. The smart money is on a blanket, a puzzle with a missing edge piece, and a book about weather you are currently having.
Woven jacquard throw
Cabin Issue.
$148
Fifty by sixty inches of contour lines and pine shadow, heavy enough to hold you in the chair through a whole storm. The best thing in the store, and the first thing anyone touches.
Hardcover almanac
The Winter Almanac.
$28
Forty-seven winters of folklore, forecasts and recipes, bound in cloth. Opens flat on a kitchen table.
1,000-piece puzzle
Some Assembly Required.
$30
A small town at dusk, in a thousand pieces. You will finish it by Thursday. You will not.
Snow globe
Deer Under Glass.
$44
One deer, one storm, on demand.
Playing cards
Winter Firsts.
$18
Fifty-two illustrated cards for the euchre rematch nobody asked for.
Ceramic deer
A Little More Winter.
$54
A mantel deer in a red scarf, mid-leap, slightly overdressed for the occasion.
Stoneware catchall
Shoreline Study.
$46
A dish for keys and Petoskey stones, glazed like ice on the breakwall.
Something for the wall.
The light goes early this far north. What is left of it hits the back wall, where the prints hang, the signs lean, and somebody has written “not for sale” on the good one.
Archival print, 18 × 24 in.
Michigan Winter.
$40
A birch forest, a red sun and a whole season on one sheet. Printed on heavy matte paper, the kind that looks better in a cheap frame than it has any right to.
Art print, 12 × 36 in.
Winter Weather No. 01.
$48
The Great Lakes as a weather report, in blue, navy and cream. A long, narrow print for a long, narrow hallway.
Enamel sign
Plans subject to weather.
$42
The house rules, on steel.
Enamel sign
Emergency Exit from February.
$38
Arrow points to a beach. Mount accordingly.
The natural history shelf.
Every general store has a shelf it does not dust. Ours holds the oldest things in Michigan.
Display specimen
Lake Superior No. 001.
$85
A polished slice of Superior agate on a walnut base, with a card noting where the lake left it. Each one is different; the lake does not repeat itself.
Polished Petoskey stone
350 Million Years.
$65
Fossil coral from when Michigan was a warm sea. Wet it and the pattern comes back, every time.
And one for the road.
The little things by the till. The ones you add while somebody counts out change.
Motel key tag
Northbound again.
$12
Translucent acrylic. Room number optional.
Enamel pin
Two peninsulas.
$14
Both halves, one pin.
Sticker set of five
Good cold, small scale.
$9
For a cooler, a laptop or a car that has seen things.
Postcard folio of eight
Eight regions.
$18
One for every corner of the state. Stamps not included.
Felt pennant
Somewhere Up North.
$26
For anyone who says “up north” and means a specific dock.
A first collection, taking shape.Good things
Good things
take a little time.
These are proposed products, shown as concept imagery rather than photographs of finished samples. Materials, sizes and finishes will be confirmed after physical sampling.
Prices are proposed and may change. Orders are not open yet, so the satchel is a preview: nothing is charged or shipped.
Read the stories behind the shelves ↗