Rugs: Adding Meaning and Character to Any Space

Think of a good rug as the Hermès scarf you wear with a plain cashmere sweater.

The sweater may already be beautifully made. It doesn't need the scarf. But add one with an unexpected color, pattern or history, and suddenly the whole outfit becomes more interesting and complete.

I think of rugs in much the same way.

A room can have beautiful furniture, good proportions and carefully chosen objects and still need something that gives it character. Very often, that something is the rug.

What Does the Room Need?

I don't begin by asking, “What rug matches this room?”

I ask what the room needs.

Sometimes it needs color. Sometimes texture. Sometimes warmth. A quiet room may need a little energy or whimsy. A collection of beautiful but disparate furniture may need something to pull it all together.

And sometimes a room simply needs one strong thing. A rug can be that.

I have used rugs to anchor a seating arrangement, define a dining area within a larger space, separate one area from another, or do exactly the opposite—bring several elements together so they suddenly feel like they belong to the same room.

A rug can also guide you through a space.

An entry rug can welcome you in and establish the mood before you have really entered the room. A hallway runner can lead you forward almost instinctively, drawing the eye and the body in a particular direction. In a long passage, that directional quality can make the architecture feel intentional rather than simply transitional.

A large rug can establish the entire composition of a space. A small rug can create an intimate moment in front of a chair, beneath a table or in an entry.

There are practical guidelines about rug size and placement, and they can be useful. But I don't believe every good room comes from following a formula.

Sometimes the slightly unexpected choice is what makes a room come alive.

Color Doesn't Have to Match

One of the easiest ways to make a room dull is to match everything too perfectly.

I don't necessarily choose a rug because its colors already appear in the upholstery, curtains or walls. Sometimes I choose it precisely because they don't.

A flash of saffron, deep red, indigo or an unexpected green can change the temperature of an otherwise neutral room. You don't need to redecorate around it. A small echo of that color somewhere else—a ceramic object, a painting, a cushion, flowers—may be enough. It can also be a pure personal touch. You like purple? Why not add a splash of what you adore? Every time you look at that rug, it can bring you joy.

I also sometimes think about color through feng shui.

I don't practice it as a rigid formula, but I do pay attention to the idea that color can influence the feeling and energy of a space. A room may need more warmth, grounding, calm or vitality, and the rug can introduce that without changing the entire room.

In feng shui, colors are associated with the five elements—wood, fire, earth, metal and water. I find that framework useful less as a set of rules than as another way of asking: What is missing here? What does this room need more of?

A rug is a particularly effective way to introduce that shift because it occupies such a large visual plane while remaining relatively easy to change.

Again, think of the plain cashmere sweater.

The scarf doesn't have to match it. That's the point.

Texture Changes a Room Too

Color gets most of the attention, but texture can be just as transformative.

I particularly like the tension between old handwoven rugs and clean modern furniture. Wool against glass. An irregular tribal weaving beneath a precise modernist chair. A faded rug in a very contemporary room.

The contrast makes both more interesting.

A room composed entirely of smooth, new surfaces can feel visually flat even when everything in it is expensive. The irregular surface of a handmade rug introduces another layer—the evidence of material, touch and time.

That matters to me.

Thickness Matters

A rug also has a job to do, and this is where beauty has to meet real life.

Before choosing a rug, I think about how the room is actually used.

Do you have pets? Do you wear shoes indoors? Is it a high-traffic passageway? Does a door need to swing over it? Is it going under a dining table where chairs need to move easily?

A thick, plush rug may feel wonderful in a bedroom or sitting area, but it may be impractical in an entry or dining room. A flatter weave can be easier to live with in a busy space and easier to clean.

Sound matters too.

Hard floors and long hallways can create an echo that makes a room feel cold and noisy. Rugs absorb some of that sound and soften the acoustics. A runner in a hallway can change not only how the space looks, but how it feels and sounds when you walk through it.

Comfort underfoot becomes more important too. As we get older, hard floors can simply feel less forgiving. A rug with some body—or a good pad beneath a flatter rug—can add cushioning and make standing and walking in a room more comfortable.

But more thickness is not always better. Very high pile, loose edges or an overly thick pad can create another problem: something to catch a foot on.

The right rug should work with the way you live, not against it.

Sometimes the Rug Has Something to Say

Then there are rugs I respond to for reasons that have little to do with decorating.

Traditional weavings can contain symbols that have traveled through cultures and generations: the tree of life, birds, flowers, animals, protective forms and geometric motifs. The tree of life appears in many cultures and traditions, carrying ideas of growth, continuity and the connection between earth and something beyond it.

You don't need to know the meaning of every symbol to appreciate a rug. Nor do I think every motif should be overinterpreted. Sometimes a flower is simply a flower.

But when you do discover another layer of meaning, the rug changes.

It is no longer merely pattern. Someone chose that symbol. Someone placed it there. Someone sat at a loom and wove it into the object that is now lying in your home.

I find that extraordinary.

Balance Doesn't Require Symmetry

I have never been particularly interested in rules or symmetry in design. I care much more about balance, and balance doesn't require two sides of a room to mirror each other.

Sometimes an off-center rug, an unexpected scale or a pattern that seems slightly at odds with its surroundings creates exactly the tension a room needs. If everything coordinates, aligns and behaves itself, there is very little left for the eye to discover.

The same is true of rugs. The irregularities, unexpected colors and asymmetrical motifs that might technically be considered imperfect are often the very things that give a weaving—and a room—its character.

Perfect Isn't Always More Beautiful

Some of the rugs I find most compelling aren't perfect.

A border wanders slightly. One motif isn't quite like the next. A color changes midway through the weaving. Something appears where you don't expect it.

Those irregularities become part of the intrigue.

Of course, craftsmanship matters. I appreciate a beautifully executed fine weaving enormously. But technical perfection and beauty aren't always the same thing.

Sometimes it is the odd little decision—the unexpected bird, crooked flower, peculiar proportion or sudden change of color—that makes me fall in love with a rug. It shows the traces of the maker’s decisions and personality. This is what makes these rugs so precious—and what sets them apart from mass-produced new rugs.

Let the Rug Lead

We are often taught to choose a rug after everything else: buy the sofa, arrange the furniture, choose the wall color and then find something for the floor that coordinates with it all.

I sometimes do the opposite.

If I find an exceptional rug, I let it lead.

Pull a color from it. Respond to its geometry. Put something very modern beside something ancient. Leave enough quiet around it so you can actually see it.

You can even hang a particularly beautiful weaving on the wall and treat it as art.

There is no reason the most interesting object in the room has to be sitting on a pedestal.

A Room Should Feel Like Yours

Ultimately, I don't choose rugs because they are fashionable.

I choose them for many of the same reasons I choose clothing, furniture, jewelry or art: material, craftsmanship, color, history, form—and an instinctive response that is sometimes difficult to explain.

Sometimes a rug simply makes you smile every time you walk past it.

That may be reason enough.

The best rooms, like the best wardrobes, aren't created by matching everything perfectly. They acquire character piece by piece.

And sometimes, all a beautiful plain cashmere sweater needs is the right scarf.

Bring Me the Room

If you're trying to find the right rug for a particular room, bring me photographs and approximate dimensions. I am always happy to look at the space with you—what is already there, how you use it, and what may be missing.

Sometimes the answer is a particular size, color or texture. Sometimes it is a rug you would never have thought to choose on your own. The goal isn't simply to find something that fits the floor. It is to find the piece that makes sense of the room.