image: Park and Oak The first time I saw a vintage rug I thought YES. THIS IS WHAT I NEED. Something lived in. Something authentic. Something...cheap. Because a new 9' x 12' Moroccan rug is going to run $4000 minimum at Elte, and at my current stage of life (sofa forts, spilled apple juice) I just can't handle that kind of stress. So I started obsessively browsing online for the perfect pre-loved Turkish kilim. I quickly found that they come in weird, non-standard sizes: super long and narrow or kind of square. Not the tidy 5' x 7' and 8' by 10' we're used to. What to do? Layer. I just love the look of a tidy seagrass or sisal area rug beneath a beautifully worn, time-softened tribal rug. Pefection. If the base rug is properly proportioned to the room, practically any size or shape can be layered on top. image: The Fox and She image: One Kings Lane They're everywhere, but I still really like fluffy Beni Ourain rugs. Those tassels. Here a creamy off-white Beni is layered with a flat woven Turkish rug in a hot orange that makes those blue pillows jump off the sofa. Take away the colourful rug and the room seems a bit flat, doesn't it? image: D Magazine A huge area rug like this one, or a room with wall-to-wall carpet, can make furniture seem like its floating, unanchored. The cowhide defines the seating area above, and adds some texture in a monochromatic room. Cowhides are kind of weird on their own, anyway, so as a rule I would always layer them.
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image credit creatinghome.net Winter is my least favourite season. By a mile. But this year I vowed to not bring my family down and to try to make peace with the dark, cold and medieval winterplace that is Toronto from November to April. Hygge. It might be pronounced like "who-gyah" or "hoo-ga". Tempting though it may be, it's definitely not "higgy". Hygge is one of those words English mouths are just never going to get right, but no matter. That won't stop me from appropriating the idea, which is Danish, and means something like being cozy with a merry spirit. It's a tradition of creating a warm, inviting home and enjoying good times with people you love. Its meaning in Denmark is also deeply connected to simplicity. Candles are hygge. So are fires, thick socks and wool blankets. I deeply get this. This is how I will come to terms with winter. image credit mnn.com So I began lighting candles at 4:30 every day. Right around the time my kids come home from school. Tea lights in the window. A trio of tapers of the island. And lighting every little lantern and twinkly thing we have. It was transformative. I encouraged evening baths rather than morning showers. Everyone got a fluffy robe and new pyjamas. Slippers appeared. And one more furry throw on the sofa. A charcoal linen runner on our normally bare walnut dining table. A sheepskin was layered over an armchair. A vase of fresh evergreens and winter berries. Adding texture, layers and natural elements felt good - hygge! - and looks lovely. image credit thehauteticket.com We invited people to dinner at our place rather than meet at a restaurant, so thoroughly was I enjoying our new coziness. The final challenge was to actually leave the house, willingly. I brought along my camera on a family hike around Hilton Falls (where the photo below was taken on New Year's Eve) and made my own kind of peace with winter this year. image credit nicolemorellinteriors.com
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