Never forget the places you love with these 12 bespoke keepsakes

Bring home one-of-a-kind, handmade gifts from across the South that celebrate craftsmanship and regional culture

February 18, 2026

A far cry from your garden-variety gift-shop keychains and mugs, these souvenirs are made by hand and epitomize the culture and history of the places they were created. Some represent crafts that have been passed down for generations, like the sweetgrass baskets of South Carolina’s Lowcountry or moonshine from the hills of Kentucky, while others capture a region’s natural bounty, like shell art from Sanibel Island, Florida, and sumptuous peach cakes made with central Georgia’s most famous crop. Explore these special destinations, meet the makers, visit their shops, and take a truly memorable piece of your travels home.

Handmade quilt from Gee’s Bend
Alberta, Alabama

“Quilting is ingrained in our blood,” says Joeann West, a quiltmaker from the remote horseshoe curve in the Alabama River known as Gee’s Bend. For generations, the women of Gee’s Bend have brought new meaning to Alabama’s nickname, the Cotton State. They’ve stitched together cast-off pieces of clothing, scraps, and flour sacks to create vibrant, improvisational quilts that have been displayed in museums around the world (including the National Quilt Museum and the Whitney). The central Alabama community itself sits on a former cotton plantation where the quilters’ ancestors were enslaved. There, the nonprofit Freedom Quilting Bee Legacy (a continuation of a 1966 quilting cooperative formed to provide the women with sound employment) maintains a museum, community center, and gift shop. It also offers year-round workshops, tours, and exhibitions, including the Airing of the Quilts Festival in October, when the women’s dazzling tapestries decorate laundry lines and banisters in a patchwork of color and history. While West creates her own works (she often uses her grandson’s old blue jeans), she also found many in storage after her mother, Quinnie Pettway, passed away in 2010. Some were incomplete; others, like this one (hanging behind West), needed a complete restitching. “It brought back so many memories working on these,” West says of her quilts, which start at $500. “It was like I could see her hand as my hand making the stitch.”

Traditional steel Cajun triangle from Studio Aubé
Breaux Bridge, Louisiana

The triangle—or ’tit fer, short for petite fer (which means “little iron” in Acadiana, Louisiana’s Cajun country)—rings out above an accordion or fiddle, making it an essential percussion instrument in Cajun music. But while the tunes play on, the traditional craft of making the instrument is a fading art. ’Tit fers were historically formed from the tines of old hay rakes, but welder Brandy Aubé hand forges them from coldrolled steel in Breaux Bridge in St. Martin Parish, the heart of Cajun country. “I’m the only one I know of making them consistently,” says Aubé, whose day job is with the St. Martin Parish tourism office. “We’re actively trying to keep these traditions alive.” While Aubé’s ’tit fers, with her signature loop and scroll, make for fine wall decor, they’re meant to sound good, too. And she would know about that: She’s a musician herself, and her sister and cousins comprise a trio, Sweet Cecilia, whose Cajun album was recently nominated for a Grammy. In Breaux Bridge, find Aubé’s ’tit fers in local shops, including the funky Louisiana Marketshops at the 115. You might also catch one in action during a two-step at a fais do-do (Cajun dance party) at one of the oldest Cajun dance halls, La Poussiere.

Chef Virginia Willis’s peach pound cake from Pearson Farm
Fort Valley, Georgia

Acclaimed cookbook author and chef Virginia Willis grew up in the middle of the Peach State, one county over from peach royalty at Fort Valley’s Pearson Farm. For 140 years, five generations of Pearsons have sold handpicked peaches grown in the area’s loamy red clay; when they asked Willis to create a peach pound-cake recipe for them, she says it felt like a homecoming. “I went to high school with the Pearsons,” she says. “I ordered their peaches when I cooked lunch for President Clinton with Martha Stewart. I’m a huge fan.” In summer, visit the historic packing house and farm store, order a peach soft serve, and watch the fruit gingerly tumble down the belts to be sorted and packed. Then nab one of Willis’s pound cakes, baked in small batches in the farm kitchen, just like at home. “The base is my mama’s pound cake,” she says, “very buttery, very solid, and then just packed with peaches. We have not skimped on peaches.” Willis’s pro tip: Toast a slice in the skillet with butter and serve it up for breakfast.

Shell-encrusted keepsake basket by the Sanibel Shellcrafters
Sanibel, Florida

Shell collectors flock to the island of Sanibel, which arcs into the Gulf of Mexico like a sand shovel, scooping up the myriad seashells sweeping northward from the Caribbean. Conchs, whelks, kitten ears, junonias—hundreds of varieties wash up constantly on the white-sand shores (some hotels even provide shovels, buckets, and wash stations for collectors). The decades-old Sanibel Shellcrafters community crafting group knows how to put those treasures to good use: Every Monday morning, the group gathers at the Sanibel Community House to create crafts with the found shells. In the free classes, which are open to the public, skilled artists and visitors alike form flowers, mirrors, ornaments, boxes, and more using the spent shells like little jewels. “Most of them we find just walking the beach,” says Cheri Bailey, who heads up the Shellcrafters. “And some we take from donations from others who love collecting. We’ll even take broken shells and make designs with them.” The group hosts sales of their wares once a month (which benefit the Community House), but the true showstoppers are created for the annual Shell Show & Festival in March. Eighty-eight-year-old Barbara McClure has been meeting with the Shellcrafters since 2009. The cornucopia of shells she used in her basket were donated by community collectors. She says the “sheer beauty” of the shells is what captivates her about the craft: “Each one is different; there is so much variety and so many different colors. They’re just magnificent.”

Deer mask by Cherokee woodcarver Billy Welch
Robbinsville, North Carolina

A citizen of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, Billy Welch grew up inside the Qualla Boundary, a land trust held for the tribe in the Smoky Mountains. There his grandmothers told him of the seven matrilineal Cherokee clans and their roles in the community (loosely: healers, hunters, gatherers, messengers, protectors, peacemakers, and medicine makers). He later became a well-known woodcarver, using a knife and chisel to shape wood he collected in the forest and adding vibrant splashes of color with his own natural dyes. In 1994, Harrah’s Cherokee Casino Resort commissioned him to carve a set of seven clan masks like those that would have been worn in traditional ceremonies. Masks have since become one of his signatures, and he sells them at his shop, Hunting Boy Wood Carving, a veritable gallery of Cherokee crafts. This deer mask carved from a single piece of wood represents the deer clan, who are historically known as fast runners and hunters. “They wore masks in a ceremony before the hunt, and after the hunt to celebrate the meat and the hide,” says Welch, who has displayed his work at the National Museum of the American Indian in New York. “All the masks I carve have meaning to the Cherokee culture and history of my people.”

Bourbon-barrel aged moonshine from Neeley Family Distillery
Sparta, Kentucky

Royce Neeley’s 11th-great-grandfather arrived in Pennsylvania from Ireland in 1740 with a copper still and whiskey-making know-how. His family has been distilling ever since, making their way to the hills of Kentucky generations ago, where the limestone-filtered water and fertile soil for growing corn make it a ripe spot for slinging spirits. The bootlegging Neeleys earned a notorious reputation during Prohibition, and it wasn’t until 2015 that they took the business legal: Royce and his father Roy officially launched Neeley Family Distillery in Sparta. The family’s history (including brushes with the law) is on display at the museum-like space, where tours showcase their centuries-old copper stills, photographs, newspaper clippings, and memorabilia, including a 1941 Chrysler that once ran the ’shine. The Neeley libation is made using the triple-pot distilled moonshine recipe of Royce’s great-grandfather Old Pap Neeley (see his likeness, circa 1980, on the label), then aged five years in Kentucky bourbon barrels. “Traditionally, moonshine isn’t aged,” says Rebekah Neeley, Royce’s wife and the distillery’s singlebarrel coordinator. “The recipe dates to a time when it wasn’t even legal to make. So, you’re not going to find this anywhere else.”

Ceramics from McCartys Pottery
Merigold, Mississippi

McCartys Pottery has Mississippi roots that run deep as dirt. Since 1954, when Lee and Pup McCarty threw their first pots with clay dug from a ravine at William Faulkner’s estate in Oxford, McCartys has created legendary ceramics. The studio, housed in an old mule barn in tiny Merigold (95 miles southwest of Oxford, population 379), churns out wheel-thrown stoneware in an earthy trio of glazes—jade, cobalt blue, and nutmeg brown—which Lee, a former chemistry teacher, developed himself. Lee and Pup, sweethearts throughout their lives, turned their legacy over to their godsons: Stephen Smith, who runs the business, and his brother, Jamie, a potter who “Unc” Lee trained from childhood. A visit today will find Jamie behind the wheel in the barn, adjacent to terraced gardens, a restaurant, and a rustic but elegant showroom offering functional pieces like this jade Delta vase and wavy vegetable bowl, as well as whimsical works like the April bunny and the “bluebirds of happiness” (which Lee once gave every child who visited).

Sweetgrass basket by Gullah weaver Lynette Youson
Mount Pleasant, South Carolina

Enslaved West Africans brought the craft of coiled baskets to the rice plantations of the Lowcountry 300 years ago. Their descendants, the Gullah, continue the tradition on the sea islands of South Carolina, weaving baskets of sweetgrass, pine needles, palmetto, and bulrush, now as functional works of art sold in markets around the region. One such artist, Lynette Youson, has been creating baskets for as long as she can remember, selling them daily at the Sweetgrass Cultural Arts Pavilion in Mount Pleasant (they start at $650). “My grandmother and her friends used to sit under a tree and weave, and I’d pick up the pieces they were dropping and imitate them—until one day they took the time and showed me how to do it,” she says. Now she is passing down the craft: “It came over with my ancestors from Sierra Leone, and I’d like to continue the art with my grandkids and new generations.” Youson’s rice fanner basket—originally made to separate rice from the chaff by tossing the grains in the air and letting the lighter husk fly away and the heavier grain fall back into the fan—has a place in the Smithsonian.

Pair of custom cowboy boots from Music City Leather
Nashville, Tennessee

From his one-man shop in Nashville, Wes Shugart of Music City Leather has crafted custom cowboy boots for some big names in country music (including Marcus King), but he says he couldn’t care less about the bright lights and big stage. “Stardom doesn’t matter to me,” says Shugart, who grew up on a cattle ranch in northwest Georgia. “In fact, boots I make for true cowboys get pushed in front of CEOs and music stars.” Shugart reckons he’s the only full-time, fully custom bootmaker east of the Mississippi, and he makes boots the way they were crafted over a hundred years ago, using a 1931 single-needle sewing machine he calls “Edith.” His boots, which start at $3,200, are no ordinary honky-tonk clodhoppers: He sources leathers like hippo, alligator, python, and ostrich in bold colors and creates whimsical stitching and playful inlays and overlays (think: a drum set, a music note, a chef’s knife). This pair, in French calf and kangaroo leather, features a pink-, yellow-, and blue-flecked inlay design he picked up during an apprenticeship with the legendary McGuffin boot-making family in New Mexico.

Letter opener from A.G. Russell Knives
Rogers, Arkansas

This bench-made letter opener with a green box elder–burl handle reimagines the fierce push daggers favored by 19th-century riverboat gamblers. (Quicker to pull than a pistol, no chance of a misfire.) The renowned late Arkansas knifemaker A.G. Russell conceived of its new—and considerably more peaceful—life as a desk accessory. “He was a real history buff,” says his widow, Goldie Russell, now president of A.G. Russell Knives—a workshop and knife store in Rogers, outside Bentonville. “He loved the romance of it.” Arkansas has been known for its blades since the 1830s, when blacksmith James Black forged a knife for famed fighter and frontiersman James Bowie in the southwestern part of the state. But what began as a symbol of the state’s pioneer history has evolved into a tradition of fine knife craftsmanship that doesn’t exist anywhere else. A.G. Russell founded the knifemaker’s guild in northwest Arkansas in 1970, and the American Bladesmith Society was founded in the state a few years later. Now 10 percent of all master bladesmiths call Arkansas home, with some of them now teaching the trade. “People come to Arkansas from all over to learn,” Russell says. “We’re seeing a resurgence of true handmade knifemaking.”

Wood-turned peppermill from Mount Vernon
Mount Vernon, Virginia

Mount Vernon is dotted with majestic trees that have stood since the days George and Martha Washington strolled the verdant grounds of their home in northern Virginia. But sometimes, these pieces of living history come down amid storms and disease. When that happens, every effort is made to repurpose the prized wood in a meaningful way. The trunk is used to repair the estate’s fencing and floors, and the green wood goes to Virginia woodturner Doug Dill, who carefully crafts small specialty goods for Mount Vernon’s shop—bottle stoppers, ornaments, pens, and this hand-turned peppermill. “It’s a way for people to take a piece of Mount Vernon home with them,” says Merrill Margueron, the estate’s assistant director of retail. This peppermill was carved from a circa-1780 white oak that fell during heavy rains in 2018. It was the last of three trees that bore carvings by Union soldiers—a five-pointed star and a Latin or Greek cross—making it a true witness to history. “My intent was to create an item that was desired as not only a usable item but a keepsake from the estate of our first president,” Dill says. “The wood is the real treasure.”

Handblown glass water bottle from Blenko Glass Company
Milton, West Virginia

The glassblowers at Blenko haven’t changed their process since the company began operating in Milton in 1921. Molten glass emerges from the furnace as a gob on the end of a long metal pipe, which the glassblower puffs through to create a balloon of pliable glass. From there, it is hand-shaped with iron tongs and handmade wooden molds. “It’s not really about control,” says Jimbo Adkins, an apprentice working with master glassblower Ray Adkins (no relation). “It’s about reading the room, feeling the heat, making small moves that matter. You’re chasing this balance between chaos and grace.” The classic 384 water bottle, so named because it was the fourth product released in 1938, was designed to fit the narrow doors of newfangled “electric iceboxes” and is functional as a two-spout pitcher or decorative as a vase in a striking color (there are more than a dozen choices). The 384 has been in constant production since its introduction and has become an emblem of handmade glass in West Virginia. (The state was once a leading producer of glass, owing to its abundance of sandstone, which can be crushed into silica sand—glass’s primary ingredient.) Visitors can observe the blazing-hot alchemy from a deck above the hot shop, book a behind-the-scenes tour, or even sign up for a glass-making workshop, then browse the shop for small-batch pieces and seconds (discounted pieces with minor flaws) not found online.

This article appears in the Winter 2026 issue of Southbound.