How To Find a Good—Not Great, Not Awful—Rug

A common result of globalization and increased automation is the killing of the middle class of household items: it used to be common to find, for example, a couch that was affordable without being either poorly made or wildly expensive, or a door that’s neither made of rare cured hardwood nor construction paper. Those are largely gone now. But rugs are not quite like this, at least in the West. It’s not so much that the middle-class rug is vanishing, but more that it never much existed in the first place.

This makes for a conundrum: what do you do if you’re not rich, but you do want to avoid the gut-wrenching pitfalls of a $40 Amazon rug, which may have been constructed with planet-murdering dyes and petroleum products, by child labor, with material from abused animals, or may include potentially dangerous or unpleasant chemicals like fire-retardants, PFAS, synthetic rubber, and more? Is there a rug that normal people can afford, but also not feel bad about (or because of)?

A brief history 

The oldest known rugs come from Central Asia, especially what’s now Iran and Afghanistan. The Silk Road spread rug-making to other parts of the Old World; today, in addition to Iran and Afghanistan, there are significant rug cultures in Turkey, Armenia, Morocco, India, Nepal, and China, with other unique traditions elsewhere (Mexican rugs, for example, likely come from a combination of pre-Columbian blanket weaving and imperial Spanish insistence that said blankets could also be nice rugs). The early ones were made of organic materials like cotton and wool, especially sheep’s wool, and were utilitarian: floor coverings for warmth, protection, for sleeping or eating. These were likely flat-woven: vertically arranged "warp" threads are held in place on a loom, and horizontal "weft" threads are interwoven between them.

Flat-woven rugs still exist, and are good for high-traffic areas, but the comfiest rugs are made with knotted piles. Essentially, the weaver ties a knot around the warp and then cuts it, leaving the cut ends free to form a third dimension of thickness to the rug. And these rugs, seen in the homes of the royal and wealthy in western Europe via the Silk Road, were extremely expensive, handmade items that had to journey from far-off lands, to be used as wall hangings or draped over tables as decor. (The first time we ever see a rug with somebody standing on it, as far as I know, is when Henry the Eighth had himself painted by Hans Holbein standing on a rug," says Peter Pap, a rug dealer and historian who focuses on used Persian rugs.)

These handmade rugs, made by skilled artisans in small or medium quantities, never went away. But the Industrial Revolution brought a new category: machine-made rugs. The Jacquard loom, invented in 1801, was operated by punch cards (it would later inspire early computers) and allowed for rug making to be both fast and complex. Later mechanical looms would become ever more complex and efficient, using cheaper materials (polyester, polypropylene, nylon), cheaper dyes (like Azo, which is banned as a potential carcinogen in the EU), and later computer-designed (even with AI) and printed rugs drop-shipped directly to your front door. 

The rug parallels

These two forks of rugs—ornate, handmade, expensive on the one hand and mass-produced and cheap on the other—have been with us for quite awhile. Polyester, rayon, and nylon began creeping into the Sears catalog around the mid-century mark; by 1980, you could snag an 8.5 by 11-foot nylon rug for $44.99, or a measly $172 in today’s dollars. Today, some of the most popular rugs in the country include "Area Rug 8x10 Washable Rug Gray Vintage Rug Traditional Mat Distressed Indoor Foldable Thin Rug Retro Accent Rug Floral Print Rug Non Slip Carpet Living Room Dining Room Office" from a company called CHAMPLANT, which’ll run you $110 for an 8 by 10 footer. 

That CHAMPLANT rug is machine-washable. It’s made of "faux wool" (likely polyester, though it’s kind of weird they’re allowed to define the materials by saying what it isn’t. I’m going to start describing myself as a faux-NBA player). It comes with a built-in "TPR latex" non-slip backing– not latex at all, of course, but a synthetic rubber-like material that’s generally considered safe to use. 

What’s interesting about rugs is that there is essentially no overlap between Peter Pap Oriental Rugs and CHAMPLANT

Some Amazon reviewers note that it’s pretty thin, has a tough time staying flat, and maybe has a weird smell sometimes. But it’s easy to see why this is an appealing object: it’s dirt-cheap, easily washable (this is especially useful for those with kids or pets), and will be delivered within a couple days.

It also comes in a faux-distressed gray color that gets at the major differences between the two forks of rug-making. Faded grays, taupes, and other neutrals are common in these cheap rugs. This is a rug that is designed to fade away, to serve a purpose but be thoroughly unremarkable, to match with all furniture and all home styles, to be the second-largest item in your room (after a couch or bed) but essentially never be noticed again. That’s in marked contrast to the wild, vivid colors and patterns of a Persian or Moroccan rug. 

Alia Kate, of Kantara Rugs in Los Angeles, sells incredibly beautiful Moroccan rugs. Kantara describes itself as a "fair trade design business specializing in Moroccan rugs woven in women’s weaving cooperatives," and says of her wares: "I think the rugs speak for themselves. They're works of art. They hold this historical and cultural legacy that reflects the indigenous Amazigh culture of the women that make them." These rugs cost a few thousand dollars and often boast gorgeously clashing colors in geometric shapes, asymmetric patterns, and symbols like diamonds, seeds, or abstract skeletons. 

Peter Pap sells used Persian rugs from his shop in New Hampshire. "In the late 19th century, synthetic dyes were invented, and that’s when the whole thing shifted, and, on a certain level, went downhill. And one of the things that I really appreciate is that in the rugs that I deal in some of the regions that were more remote and were considered, maybe not as high status, they stuck with the natural dyes well into the early 20th century," says Pap. Pap’s rugs range from a few thousand dollars up into the tens of thousands of dollars, like this late-19th-century Persian priced at $35,000.

What’s interesting about rugs is that there is essentially no overlap between Peter Pap Oriental Rugs and CHAMPLANT. No buyer is going back and forth between those two stores. Interestingly, the mid-range home goods sellers, like West Elm, IKEA, and Crate and Barrel, are closer to CHAMPLANT than Pap. You’ll find lots of rugs in the mid-triple digits in price, but they’ll often be made of polyester, or have mass-produced patterns (this "Persian-inspired" polyester rug is made in India). They’re typically going to copy, or be inspired by, rugs that signal wealth, in a very 19th-century European Orientalist sort of way; Persian is the most common. The faux distressing is a similar wealth imitation: true artisan rugs, the ones that might cost $10,000, would often be heirlooms akin to paintings, and would be handed down, aging all the time, to future generations. There’s also a kind of shabby-chic trend thing happening, very 1990s, which dovetails with some of the farmhouse HGTV stuff. 

A good rug is hard to find... or is it?

Most of the terms used to denote ethical practices and sourcing for rugs carry no regulatory weight whatsoever; anyone can just say "green," "sustainable," "eco-friendly," "child-safe," "handwoven," and much, much more. Handwoven means that a person is operating the loom, but "handwoven" rugs are typically very flat or low-pile and not necessarily indicative of higher quality than a machine. And who’s checking that in the first place? Those beautiful Persian, Afghan, and Turkish rugs that are prized by serious rug people are "hand-knotted"—a crucial distinction. (As a side note, "knots per square inch" is a metric that’s sometimes used to denote quality. You can basically ignore that; Moroccan rugs, for example, use fewer knots as an aesthetic choice. It’s a misleading metric, kind of like thread count in bedsheets.)

Child and forced labor is a huge issue in the carpet and rug industry, and, according to a Global Labor Justice report, much more prevalent in hand-knotting than in other methods of rug-making. It’s a very difficult topic to regulate; many small rural operations have their own children working in the family business, for example. Is that child labor? Is it unethical child labor? 

Trying to find a "good" rug, one that’s made with responsibly sourced materials, made in a labor-friendly environment, and with minimal negative environmental impact, is kind of a nightmare. The industry is just too large, too varied, and those are too many variables. But there are some things you can look for.

Fair Trade Certified—not just the phrase "fair trade," but the little badge and certification, is increasingly used for rugs. Theoretically, this third-party certification ensures that workers are more equitably paid, are primarily small producers, are free of child and forced labor, and maintain transparency in the product life cycle. In reality it’s kind of hard to tell how much more money actually gets to the workers, and members have to be structured as cooperatives to join, which many small weavers are not. It’s certainly better than nothing, though.

Organic is kind of a tricky one; the U.S. does not certify wool, but does allow for wool rugs to be sold as organic if they meet the Global Organic Textile Standard, or GOTS. GOTS bans dyes like Azo, child labor, and audits some environmental stuff like wastewater treatment. But it also doesn’t look at raw fibers, and instead relies on local authorities like National Programme for Organic Production, or NPOP, India’s version of the American organic program. GOTS itself found evidence of fraud in Indian organic cotton, so this isn’t perfect.  

GoodWeave is a standard specifically focused on ending child labor and forced labor. But it also includes some verbiage on labor laws (must be at least a national minimum wage, which is less common than it should be in many countries), the right to unionize, and some basic environmental guidelines. 

In terms of materials, it’s not crazy to just completely avoid synthetics like rayon, nylon, and polyester—not because they’re necessarily toxic to the environment or human health, but because it’s essentially impossible to verify that they aren’t. You’ll have no idea what they’re treated with or what kinds of dyes or glues are used. Finding rugs in natural materials that don’t cost an arm and a leg isn’t impossible, but it does take a bit of research. Retailers like the creatively named Rugs USA collaborate with designers like Arvin Orlano and Prabal Gurung to offer wool rugs at a reasonable price point that look much more expensive than they are. West Elm sells Fair Trade Certified rugs (though that makes you wonder why they sell rugs that aren’t), and you can get GoodWeave certified rugs at Target. But there’s a much larger holistic issue at stake than just fulfilling a major retailer’s need for a certification; it’s a better idea to go actually talk to a human, if you have the time. 

Finding a shop you trust, one that works directly with small-batch suppliers, can help ensure that wages and labor conditions are fair. The Anou is a good place for surprisingly affordable direct trade Moroccan rugs. The Citizenry has a wide selection, albeit a little more expensive, and pays twice the local fair trade standard. A local rug dealer should be able to answer questions about child labor, fair wages, and safe materials; frankly, if they’re not psyched you’re asking, you shouldn’t buy from them.

Or, of course, you can buy used, which can also enable you to see and feel and touch the rug before you purchase—something often lost as we buy cheap rugs online.

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