Meet The Western Wanderer
(And the Woman Behind It)
I’ve always had one foot in the past and one hand reaching toward something just out of frame. Maybe that’s what drew me to vintage in the first place? This idea that clothes carry stories, and that by wearing them, we get to become part of the story too.
The Western Wanderer was born from that feeling. From small town dive bars and conversations with the old timers that frequent them. From long drives on wide open highways with the windows down and the wind tangled in my hair. It’s a vintage shop, yes, but it’s also a love letter to the wild, free spirit of the American West. To the ones who color outside the lines, who live loud, who change their outfits three times a day just because it feels good to.
This shop is my way of saying that personal style matters. That the way you show up in the world, whether it’s in sequins or denim or fringe or florals, is a kind of language. It’s a way of saying: this is who I am.
I grew up in Idaho, shaped by the wide-open skies of the high desert. I was raised on old country records, secondhand magic, and a deep appreciation for the stories tucked into the seams of things. I’ve always been a collector, of textures, of memories, of pieces with soul.
The Western Wanderer is full of the kinds of things I’ve always loved: 1960s mod, 1970s boho chic, western shirts with just the right amount of wear, disco glam and oddball pieces that don’t really “go” but somehow just work.
It’s curated, sure. But it’s also a little chaotic in that beautiful, meaningful way that real life is. I want you to feel like you’re digging through your coolest aunt’s closet. You know, the one who ran off with a cowboy or went on tour with a band once and never really came back the same.
There’s something sacred in giving these old garments another ride around the sun. Vintage is inherently sustainable, but for me, it’s more than that. It’s about honoring what’s come before. About finding beauty in what already exists. About remembering that style isn’t fast or disposable. It’s personal. It’s art. It’s rebellion. And it’s joy.
So whether you’re here because you love vintage, or because you're on your own path of reinvention, or because something about this place just feels right—welcome. There’s a place for you here.
Let’s wander.
