Field Notes: A Cigarette & A Soft Breeze

The bar lights hum. Somewhere between the static of an old jukebox and the crackle of a cigarette, Westward Willow was born — embroidered by hand, stitched in small-town spirit, and wrapped in lace and camo.

This isn’t your grandma’s country.

It’s horses and homesteading, but make it edge. It’s pool games at the dive bar with chipped nail polish and cherry cola. It’s the way your hoodie smells like campfire and perfume. It’s cheetah print tangled with Realtree. It’s riding with the windows down past abandoned motels, snakes in the ditch, and your favorite denim getting softer with every mile.

We’re not “mama” tees and sunflower sayings. We’re not bows, monograms, or neon fringe.

We are small-town soul, turned inside out.

💌 Stay awhile.

Follow along for drops, behind-the-scenes stitches, and the stories that inspire each piece. Every thread is a love letter to the Midwest — just a little rougher around the edges.