Camp Blankets and Throws

Few may know, for example, that he is a native of Oregon or that he has collected antique fabrics and wool blankets since he was a child. “I grew up around Native Americans, and they always gave blankets as gifts,” he said. “I think the design of them is really beautiful. Even in college, I was the guy that had antique blankets on his bed.”

He is still that guy, but now the stacks of blankets are divided between his homes in Philadelphia and Joseph, Ore. And he is always on the lookout for more.

Generally, he prefers blankets made by small American mills like Warped and Wonderful, a one-woman operation in Idaho, and Kindred Crossings, a family farm in Connecticut that produces only 325 blankets a year.

In Manhattan, one of his favorite sources is Paula Rubenstein, an antiques shop in SoHo with a wall of blankets and fabrics spanning a couple of hundred years and many styles. And there is Ms. Rubenstein herself, whose enthusiasm for the merchandise she carries seems to be matched only by her knowledge about it.

“She has such cool stuff, I could go crazy in here,” Mr. Hays said. As he pulled out various pieces, Ms. Rubenstein offered information about the pattern or the weaver.

In the end, Mr. Hays bought two pieces, both of them “early Indian trade blankets,” Ms. Rubenstein said: one striped, by Capps, and another with a totem pole design, by Jacobs Oregon City, made in the early 1900s.

“I prefer blankets that aren’t in perfect condition, like this one,” he said of the striped blanket. “It has some fraying, and someone obviously tried to fix it. And look at these colors: they’re acid-y, almost psychedelic.”

Online, he found a Pendleton blanket that came in various sizes, for $218 to $338. Although it was “a vintage reproduction, which I’m not normally a big fan of, they did a good job,” he said. Most of the time, he noted, “when you do find vintage ones like this, they’re $1,500.”

While he usually gravitates to older companies, Mr. Hays singled out Swans Island as a newer company that met his approval, picking out a gray blanket he liked. “They’re very fastidious about the quality of the wool, about using natural dyes,” he said. “There are 15 colors in this blanket, but it still reads gray.”

An Amana blanket also made the cut, because “it’s from Iowa’s only remaining operating woolen mill,” he said, and it’s “done right by people who care.”

He added: “I love when you can blend grandma country in a clean modern environment. I learned that from my mother.”