Ok I admit I am in a ranting mood but after a week of Instagram rug posts with tag lines of
' Tony would look fabulous on your floor '
' Melissa is looking for a new home '
' Lauren will brighten up every space '
' Micheal has the most beautiful vintage hues '
I feel as if I want to scream in horror or groan in just plain dispair.
I know it's good marketing technique to personalise your product and in this day and age of global consumerism and 'instamusthaves' you have to do the best you can with a couple of hip lines and targeted hashtags to make your mark.So my rant is not a criticism of those sellers who name their rugs but more a reflection on this recent rug 'naming' trend.
As a bit of a rug purist my toes curl and my lips purse when I see a vintage hand-woven rug, crafted in time honored tradition by nomadic women, given a very western name to make it 'more' appealing. I feel this deliberately or inadvertently denies the original weavers' right of ownership and any aknowledgement of her many months if not years of work and creativity. The fact that the western names chosen bear no resemblance to the Turkish, Afghan or Iranian origins of the weaver, or the rug, increases a further disconnect from the beautiful traditions of the piece and the environments where it was created.
To add insult to injury, these rugs are primarily woven by woman, so when a late night instagrammer sees a darker more masculine palette to a rug and without a second thought or a nod to the rugs' origins anoints it as 'Jonathan' or 'Michael' it's enough to make my feminist bones rattle.By not acknowledging the fundamental 'feminine' in rugs, the weavers' once powerful motifs which symbolised her desire for fertility,unity or even protection, have now been silenced by a clever marketing ploy.