Here's a beautiful way to show your colors. My sculptured American Flag Bow Pin is enameled in the colors of Old Glory. Tiny twinkling stars rise out of the blue ribbon and red enamel stripes alternate with crystal stripes. Crystal stones cover the upper bow. Looks like a little piece of vintage Americana and you'll love wearing it almost every day as a symbol of pride and confidence in America. On jeans, black velvet, your jacket or your hat, it's a reminder to others to love and protect America.   Proceeds from the sale of our American Bow is donated to causes which directly benefit veterans and their families. 
Size: 2" wide x 1.25" vertical.  Safety catch pin closure. Made in our Los Angeles, CA USA studio 

The inspiration behind this pin:

In the 1960s, on the day before the Fourth of July, the principal of my elementary school, Mr. Lyons, called an “assembly.” It was a welcome break from long division and cursive practice. When the bell rang, pencils dropped. We filed out to the warm tar playground in double lines, each of us holding a classmate’s hand—mine usually caught in Shorty Martin’s damp grip.

A record player blared “Stars and Stripes Forever” as we marched. My friend Vicki Reynolds sang a mischievous version of the lyrics under her breath, setting off quiet snickers until a teacher hushed us. Once the entire school had gathered, the music stopped and Mr. Lyons stepped to the microphone. He was a large man with a deep, measured voice—formal, yet reassuring.

That year, instead of a lesson about 1776, he asked us what made us glad to be Americans.
“Free speech,” a sixth grader called out.
“Free newspapers,” another offered.
“You mean free press,” a teacher corrected.

At seven years old, the idea of freedom was beyond me. What I understood was the day itself—the heat of the July sun, trees in bloom, and the promise of ice cream at the end of the assembly.

Only later did I recognize what those simple pleasures represented. The ease of that moment—the ability to stand in the sun, to laugh, to expect sweetness at the end of the day—rests on something larger. It is a kind of freedom many in the world do not live with.

Now, well into the complexities of adult life, I return to that memory each Fourth of July. The meaning of independence does not come to me through history alone, but through something more immediate: sunlight, warmth, and the taste of ice cream—small, ordinary experiences that hold the weight of something profound.

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