GOODBYE TO THE ALL-BEIGE AESTHETIC

How a Red Rug Changed My Home (And Inspired My Creative Eye)

I hate to admit this now, but there was a time (in my not so distant past) that my “style” and home decor preference was alllll white and beige, everything. 

I had this idea that if I opened my eyes each day to a meticulously clean, barely accessorized space with varying shades of white, off-white, cream, and pops of color like KHAKI or OLIVE (crazy, I know!) that meant my space looked chic, put together, and refined. 

I had this idea that a monochromatic design meant I had my shit together,  and that I would channel the type of woman who sets a serene space, and would never ever spill. 

Hi, I’m Kate and I’m here to admit that I was wrong. About monochromatic design and about spilling, but I digress.

I’m also here to-—begrudgingly-—admit that my husband was right (more on that very soon). 

Before I get ahead of myself, let’s start from the beginning. It was December 2022 and my then fiance and I were driving a U-Haul filled with all our belongings to move into our new apartment in Hermosa Beach, CA. 

The rain was pelting down on the windshield as we made our way from Washington state down the coast to California. 

The drive…

As Kameron drove, I scrolled for interior inspiration. 

I was determined to make this next space feel organized, thoughtfully decorated, and just *perfect*. 

I was pinning examples of rooms, and compiling a list of furniture and furnishings we could immediately (or eventually) invest in. Proud of myself for my organization, I thought I was setting the stage for our light, bright, beachy new space. 

Pulling up to a gas station for fuel, more snacks, and our millionth restroom break across this 22 hour drive, I showed Kameron my new plan for the apartment. 

As he thumbed through the photos on my phone, I could tell from his expression he was less than impressed. “Where is the color? This all looks so boring.”

Ouch. But to be fair, we are a pretty brutally honest couple. 

You see, my husband is an architect who is quite passionate about design. He will notice dappled light on a coffee shop floor, or take note about the composition of a photo in a magazine. He notices the details of design. 

My husband is inspired by his studies in Mexico City and Copenhagen in grad school–colorful, charming, and alive with character. He’s inspired by having tons of plants in a home and biophilia. He’s inspired by Japanese art, and conversation pits circa the 70’s. Suffice to say, you couldn’t possibly imagine a conversation pit in the interiors I showed him. 

I quickly realized my inspiration was… Instagram? I had defined simplicity as the goal, but eventually steered myself toward a style that felt sterile. 

I had been struck by the clean-girl-bug. I wasn’t picturing a space that felt like mine—or ours—at all. I was holding myself to a standard that my Instagram (circa 2021) had spoon-fed me, where curating a scene rather than shaping a home, felt like a way of joining a coveted inner circle.

From that moment forward—literally, because we still had a long way to drive and I wasn’t about to be told for a second time that my inspo felt like the energetic equivalent of a dentist’s office—it became my sole mission to release myself from the grip that white boucle chairs and pampas grass had on me (no judgement to those who still love them) and start to define my own decor and preferences. I wanted to learn to blend both of our interests and shared creative values in our home. 

I just didn’t really know how yet. 

We arrived, we unpacked, and quickly realized: we needed a rug.

This space and layout was very different from our previous home, and we had ground to cover (literally). The dining area was missing something and we knew a large rug would anchor the table in the very center of our main living space and first floor. 

But, rugs are expensive. It’s not the kind of thing to buy on a whim. The room looked empty. It needed layers and texture, yet every nice rug was out of our price range. I was frustrated.

Our friends, Kevin and Carly, lived down the street and had a rug they had bought at an estate sale that didn’t fit in their apartment. They were one of the reasons we chose Hermosa Beach to live for this next chapter; they’re dear friends.

They so generously offered to bring the rug over to see if it worked in our space. 

Their style? TOTALLY different than mine at the time, so I was admittedly anxious. What if we hate it but we have to use the rug anyway because it was a thoughtful gesture to make us feel at home in our new city? My desire for "minimalism" was making me spiral. 

Carly and Kevin are thrifters. Second hand shoppers, Facebook marketplace scavengers. Before I started thrifting myself, I admired how good they were at it. 

They weren’t afraid to drive across town for a side table, whereas you found me hitting Amazon links curated by influencers full of mass produced stuff. 

Their home felt like walking into a maximalist space of world travelers and collectors. They liked to layer multiple rugs. They have old whiskey decanters, upholstered chairs from grandparents, tons of books and trinkets found from their adventures. 

They showed up and the rug was large. I could tell by the way Kameron helped Kevin manoeuvre it up the building stairs.

We rolled it out. 

It was RED. Like, the most undeniably rich, but obvious, red. 

And in this moment, I surprised myself because I loved it.

It was beautiful. It brought life to the room, and contrasted the light tile flooring perfectly. It was also so much cooler than the stream of beige rugs I was previously searching for. The red color of the rug complimented the warm tone of wood in our table and chairs. 

And most importantly, the rug told a story. Many, in fact.

It held memories (theirs, the previous owners, and soon ours), and became even a conversation starter. 

It was also fantastic quality (yet I paid nothing?!). I became a second-hand shopper right then and there. 

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Today, when you walk into our space, it’s one of the first things you see. It draws the eye and becomes a focal point for our space and the open living room. When the light hits it, I notice the depth of the rug and the pattern. 

I know this may sound silly to some, but when I walk downstairs in the morning to make coffee I see it and it still makes me giddy. How the tables turned…

It remains one of my favorite parts of our home. 

I loved the rug because of The Unexpected Red Theory. 

When I first found this video by interior designer Taylor Simon, I felt validated.  I thought, ”OMG this proves why I love that rug so damn much!”

The "Unexpected Red Theory" in interior design suggests incorporating bold, unexpected red elements to add surprise, energy, and depth to a space. Red is traditionally associated with passion and intensity, but when used sparingly in small accents or large statements in a room it creates a striking contrast against neutral or muted tones. 

This theory challenges expected design and sparks visual interest without disrupting the overall balance in a room. The theory emphasizes the power of juxtaposition, using red to disrupt a design in an intriguing yet purposeful way.

I put together a Pinterest board that shows examples of The Unexpected Red Theory applied in so many ways and across many design styles. 

My unexpected new passion…

Since moving in, I’ve studied feng shui and the energetics of space. I’ve been inspired to take my psychic readings and connect them to homes by reading and channeling messages from the walls and the rooms of my clients' houses.