Rug-shopping faux pas leads to some dedicated research
Good thing I was sitting down when my husband, DC, leaned over and asked if we should buy one of the handwoven rugs being flung at us at a rug shop in Kusadasi, Turkey.
“Are you crazy?” I said.
We were on a cruise, and our ship had stopped in this Turkish port famous for its rug weavers, whose art dates back 7,000 years. We’d gone to watch a rug-making demonstration, which is how we came to be drinking Turkish coffee bold as liquid tar while Hakan Zor, a fifthgeneration rug merchant, explained the fine craft. The demo, of course, came with a sales pitch.
“I’d love to buy a rug for our house, but not here,” I whisper.
“Why not? We’d know the quality. We would support this ancient art. It would remind us of our trip.”
“Because they cost as much as a college tuition,” I say. “Plus, it’s a huge decorating decision.”
“Let’s just see what he has.” When DC is curious, there’s no stopping him. Besides, I give myself a pointed kick. What woman would discourage a husband interested in buying a gorgeous investment rug for their home?
“Well, maybe for the dining room,” I concede, feeling my resolve crumble.
At this, Hakan and his staff start pulling out rugs and unrolling them at our feet.
A rug that features a botanical motif in terracotta and sage with touches of blue, unfurls. It’s beautiful. The pattern moves me, the colors are just right. DC thinks we should go for it. The ship is about to leave port, and we need to get on it. The pressure mounts, and ... I cave.
Next thing Hakan is swiping DC’s credit card and getting his shipping address. Then I ask, “Wait, what size is it?” The men look at each other, 7 x 9, one says.
“That room needs 8 x 10!” I say, louder than necessary. I shoot DC a look of panic.
I hear Hakan saying if it doesn’t work out, we can always send it back. I tell DC we need to cancel this, and rush out of the shop into the Turkish bazaar outside.
Many long minutes later, DC emerges. He was in an awkward spot, he says, but he’s smoothed things over. The store will refund his credit card. I’m dubious.
“Hakan also said that he planned to be in the states next year,” DC says, “and could come to our house, if we’d like.”
This seems so improbable that I am appeased. A few days later, the credit card charge shows up as reversed. My faith is restored, and I can breathe again.
Six months later, Hakan calls DC. He’s in Florida.
Join me next week to see what happens when the Turkish rug dealer comes calling.
Meantime, this foreign rug experience prompted me to bone up on the finer points of fine rugs, so if the day ever came that I would invest in one, I could make an informed purchase. Machine vs. handmade. Most rugs in stores today, including the ones in my home, are machinemade. You can tell by looking at the back. Many handmade carpets do not have a backing, so you can see the hand-tied knot work. The underside should look slightly imperfect. If the fringe on the end is stitched on, the rug is not handmade.
The fiber. Most massproduced rugs are made of machine-spun fibers, which are often synthetic, though better ones have machinespun wool or cotton. The fibers used in higher-end
handmade rugs are handspun from only natural fibers: wool, cotton and silk. Natural vs. synthetic n
dye. The colors in mass-produced rugs typically come from chemical dyes, while fine artisan rugs color fibers with natural or vegetable dyes from plants, insect or animal sources — reds and purples from the root of the madder plant, blue from indigo leaves, etc. Though all colors fade over time, chemical colors fade faster.
Pattern. In general, n the more colors in a rug and the more intricate its pattern, the greater its value.
Knot count. The n number of knots per square inch has the most influence on a rug’s value. The finer the carpet, the smaller the knots. Thus, a silk rug at 1,200 knots per inch will have a much higher value than a wool rug with 360 knots per square inch.