Weirdly specific things, extremely well made.
A small Michigan fabrication shop making home goods that shouldn't exist, built as if they absolutely should. Sold direct. Made to outlive you.
Two products out. Both weirdly useful.
Ships now
One cleverly-bent stainless rod that turns any kitchen bag into its own sculptural can. No shell, no assembly, folds flat. Weighs 2.4 lb. Thirty bucks.
A tiny smart sensor that lives behind your toilet and texts you the moment it starts silently leaking — before it wrecks your floor, your ceiling, or your month.
Ships now
Small shop, serious receipts.
Stateside Fab is two people, one shop floor in Michigan, and a list of weirdly specific products we intend to keep building. Here's where we stand.
We're a fabrication shop that accidentally became a brand.
Stateside Fab started the way a lot of bad ideas start: one of us asked "why is every trash can in the world ugly?" and the other one said "I can weld." A weekend project became a prototype, the prototype became a Kickstarter, the Kickstarter became a Shopify, the Shopify became this.
We're a two-person shop in Battle Creek, Michigan. A CNC, a press brake, a powder-coat line, a dog. We design the objects, we cut the steel, we ship the boxes. No factories offshore, no middle distributors, no "inspired by nature" brand copy.
"If a thing has to exist in your house anyway, it should earn its spot. Loudly if possible."
Trashique was first. O-Shit was next. We're working on a third you'll meet later this year — something ridiculous you'll immediately wish someone had made thirty years ago. We make one weird-useful thing at a time, and we make it like we're the only shop that will.
How 25 feet of stainless rod becomes a Trashique, in six steps.
One bender, two people, one shop floor in Battle Creek. About 20 minutes of hands-on work per frame. No factories, no subcontractors, no surprises.
Rod stock arrives.
8 mm 304 stainless rod delivered in 20-ft straight lengths from a US mill in Ohio. Food-grade, corrosion-proof, and cheap enough to let us pass the savings through.
Cut to length.
Each Trashique is 25 ft of rod, measured, cut, and deburred. One rod becomes one frame — the "single continuous piece" claim is real.
Bent to shape on the mandrel.
11 bends per frame, hand-done against a fixed mandrel. This is the step that makes a Trashique look like a Trashique — the silhouette is entirely in the sequence and angle of the bends.
Pivot sleeves crimped in.
Three stainless sleeves crimp onto the rod at the fold joints so the frame collapses flat for shipping and storage. Zero welds, zero hardware, zero glue.
Powder-coated or brushed.
Electrostatic powder-coat in one of four signature pastels, cured at 400°F for 20 minutes — or skip the booth entirely and go bare brushed 304 for a no-coating option.
Folded, stamped, mailed.
Frame collapses flat, drops into a kraft mailer with a cloth tag bearing its serial number. The flat-pack envelope is why Trashique ships for $0 anywhere in the US.
Something
ridiculous
lands in July.
Another weirdly specific home object you'll immediately wish someone had made thirty years ago. No hints, no pre-orders, no drip campaign. Get on the list and we'll tell you first.
July 2026