Behind the Design: Southwest Roadrunner Throw Blanket
Our Southwest Roadrunner throw blanket marks a new chapter for Tuxberry & Whit. For the first time, we're treating our throws like we treat our prints—as limited editions, made in small runs, and designed with intention rather than inventory in mind. As we've navigated the retail world and all the joys of managing stock (yes, that's sarcasm), we've realized we want to lean into the art and design side of our company and move away from the produce-sell-repeat model. We're artists who happen to run a retail home goods and stationery company, and we want to celebrate that. The concept of editions—creating something intentional, numbering it, and moving on—has always appealed to us. This Southwest roadrunner throw blanket is our first exploration of that approach in textiles.
The Roadrunner design is special for two reasons: it's an example of listening to our audience and challenging ourselves to create something different. As a New Mexico-based brand that pops up mostly around the state and Colorado, we hear constantly that people want decor that speaks to their interests and identity. The Southwest has long enchanted folks, and we wanted to take that concept and elevate it. We're not the kind of company that does obvious, kitschy subjects without aesthetic value—but we wanted to push ourselves and really explore the functional art concept. This throw isn't oriented in the traditional manner of a repeating pattern. It's like a landscape painting with a definite subject and orientation. You can't view it from all directions—it has a top and a bottom, a focal point, a composition. We love playing with borders and patterns, pushing beyond traditional ways to treat textiles. We ignore the grid, so to speak. Our designs flow and are decidedly asymmetric. It's who we are—we want to create pieces that are interesting in unexpected ways without being too abstract to be enjoyable.
What inspired the Southwest roadrunner design?
We were really trying to do something iconic for the area while working within the constraints of a 6-color knit throw. Details and shading get tricky when you're working with knit—the nature of the stitch means shapes and lines get abstracted. It's basically pixel art. We'd also been wanting to try a landscape for a long time. All our other designs have either been totally geometric and abstract, or some version of a subject layered with pattern and color to create movement. This felt like the right moment to push into new territory.
The Southwest is known for its light and landscapes—that's why people love it here. We wanted to create a traditional scene with the desert, mesas, and mountains (yes, there are a lot of mountains in New Mexico and southern Colorado). The roadrunner was the perfect subject because, well, it had to be a roadrunner. They're super prominent little dudes all over the Albuquerque area, and the state even named a passenger train after them—the Rail Runner. We love that they're iconic but also a little scrappy. You don't want to mess with one. I'm pretty sure they're a historic relative of a velociraptor, and I could totally see it. The whole challenge was: we keep getting asked about roadrunners, so how can we do something super Southwest without it feeling forced or like too much of a departure from our signature style? How do we deal with space and layering in a way that still feels like us?
Walk us through the design elements—colors, composition, and approach.
The process is very collaborative between the two of us—it's kind of a parallel thing with color on one side and design on the other. From the design side, we start with a simple pencil sketch. All hiding is impossible when it's just a pencil drawing. You can't hide behind intriguing colors—it's either a successful composition and rendering, or it's not. We knew we wanted more than one element of the Southwest, so the landscape needed to include mountains, mesas, evidence of rain and monsoon in the runoff areas, desert, piñon bushes, and the actual roadrunner. The nature of knit and scaling meant we decided on solely one roadrunner with no other main animals. Which brings me to the snake.
There's a snake—and yes, I'm shocked I'm saying this—that winds around and introduces a pattern and border for the whole design. I hated having Kate send me pictures of every snake in the state, and I'm still crawling thinking about it, but we landed on a red, tan, and brown palette to nod to a coral snake. Its patterning was the perfect solution to transition into the border. We also used ocotillo (a spindly cactus) to play with and merge the lines between subject and foreground with border—keeping the edges busy with tiles, cactus, and snake pattern. It blurs where the scene ends and the border begins, which is exactly what we wanted.
Colors are the other major part of the process. We have swatch books from the mill, and it becomes this back-and-forth where we talk through what the six colors will be and how they play together. From a drawing standpoint, you need a white and a black to define what's going on. In this case, it was a light cream and chocolate brown that became our major shades to work with. Beyond that, it was about choosing colors that ground a space but also have enough value to create a scene that makes sense visually. We're so excited to introduce colors in the blue family—this periwinkle type color—and brown. They're new colors for us, and we think they'll be right at home in an adobe space or just any modern interior with a keen eye for pieces that make a statement. The vibrant green, coral, and taupe round out the palette and give it that desert-at-different-times-of-day energy.
Tell us about the manufacturing process. Why a small edition of 14?
Our mill specializes in small runs and collaborating with artists. These aren't cheaply made items—the thread we use is very high quality. It's a 2-ply cotton and recycled cotton depending on the color choice. The throws are very soft and wear beautifully. Quality is key for us. We're not interested in creating things that will be thrown away after a few washes because they're not holding up. We chose a U.S. manufacturer because we want to be able to collaborate and communicate with them directly, trust the conditions in which the throws are made, and cut down on the global footprint it takes to get our products to us. We know this is unavoidable with many products, but for us, we didn't need our dream of working together and creating functional art to contribute to that.
Fourteen is a small number, and it's not going to create waste. This is a zero-waste facility, and we're not going to lessen the product quality by producing more. Each throw is inspected by hand and sent directly to us—made for us and sent to us. We're not trying to create a false sense of scarcity. We just don't believe in mass production. We're thrifters and we like that there aren't a million of something floating around. There's an intentionality to it and a fleeting nature to the whole thing when it's been made for this purpose or moment in time. It's not a mainstay—it's a small piece of art from our hearts, and we don't want to continue to reproduce that design over and over again. We want to challenge ourselves, further develop our voice and craft, and keep moving forward.
How do you envision people using this Southwest roadrunner throw blanket?
Always functional. One-of-a-kind pieces like paintings? I can get behind form over function there. But in the case of textiles, these are meant to be used, abused, washed, and back in rotation. They're expertly crafted with quality materials, and with that, they're meant to be enjoyed year after year. I envision this throw at home in a space that knows its mind, so to speak—has a story to tell and a keen sense of color. It could be eclectically driven or more neutral, and the colors will work beautifully either way. The chocolate browns in this throw will be right at home with warm wood tones.
I would say this throw has a strong geometric feeling, so a home that's more modern or tailored will work well. A good friend of mine is using it for a boy's nursery that has prehistoric rock elements mixed with a collected desert vibe, and I am so excited to see the outcome. But honestly, it works in living rooms, bedrooms, draped over a leather chair, folded at the end of a bed—anywhere you want a statement piece that's actually functional.
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