My Aunt Dot and Uncle Joe traveled the world — Africa, Europe, the Middle East. My uncle was looking for oil. My aunt was looking for doo-dads.
Occasionally, when they were between homes, our family “stored” some of their collected treasures at our house: carved wooden tables and camel-saddle chairs the likes of which I’d never seen in the furniture department of Sears. My favorite temporary acquisition, however, was the hand-knotted rug from Turkey, made from undyed wool in a spectrum of earthtones. My aunt told me there was always a mistake intentionally woven into the rugs to placate a god who might be angered by mortal perfection. This led to an obsession on my part to find the mistake. I stared at that intricate rug until I was cross-eyed. I believe that’s when I was infested with the Rug Bug.
I few years ago, I actually indulged this bug and went out and bought a rug.
For anyone else, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but for me, the Queen of Scrounged Furniture, whose house is filled with things other people — most notably, my mother — have discarded, this purchase was earth-shaking.
Unfortunately, the rug men I dealt with never felt the ground move. I made the mistake of falling for the ubiquitous lure of the “going out of business sale.” Rug dealers are always going out of business only to spring up like kudzu a few weeks later at another location. I’ve since read that experts recommend avoiding rug dealers who are continually advertising huge sales. Although I love the rug I eventually bought, the experience was about as soothing as giving birth to a 6’x10′ Boukara with fringe. And sometimes, when the light is bright, I wonder if it’s really the “rugman’s rug” the salesman claimed it to be.
But it’s wearing well, despite its rugged life with three dogs, two cats, and a man with feet the size and roughness of a grizzly’s paws. (I keep it relatively clean and I keep a good pad under it, the two caveats for happy rugs.)
I’m itching for another rug, but this time I think a little preliminary education is in order. Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find a dealer who will take the time to educate me without trying to make a quick sell; these rare gems should be treasured. If not, I’ve found a great site on the Web (http://www.channell.com/skaffrugs/index.html) that not only dishes out loads of information on the history and variety of rugs, but also isn’t afraid to name their prices ($900 to $5,000) on several hundred rugs.
And then there’s my new friend, Ms. Galvin, a textile repair artist extraodinaire, who we’ll talk with next week, about pets and vacuums and the structural importance of fringe.
Write me. Question me. Scold me. Please. At Suzebe@aol.com or P.O. Box 49066, Austin, 78765.
This article appears in April 11 • 1997 and April 11 • 1997 (Cover).