I traveled to Morocco a little over five years ago (make that SIX when I'm finally hitting publish). This post has been sitting in my drafts for such a long time, mostly unwritten, as I have been trying to muster the wherewithal to do it justice.

From a young age, I had an inexplicable fascination with Morocco—I couldn't say exactly why, but something about the fusion of French and Northern African cultures was fascinating to me. I watched Hitchcock's classic, "The Man Who Knew Too Much," at a young age and the intrigue of the plotline involving Morocco was one such source of my piqued interest. In my study of interior design, I have always loved textiles and particularly the craftsmanship and culture imbued in them. The prospect of visiting Morocco and witnessing firsthand the process of creating such textiles was thrilling. It was also exciting to consider that so many pieces are vintage wares and have their own years of histories and stories.

Indeed, the decorative arts of Morocco did not disappoint. I loved every aspect of zellij tilework, every cloistered gardened courtyard, and seeing the different types of textiles unique to the different geographic areas and regions of Morocco.

One of the reasons for which I was most excited about going to Morocco were the textiles. In this respect especially, this trip was a dream come true. When I was in college, I took many design and architecture-related classes as part of my major (home and family living with an interior design emphasis). One of the most difficult, challenging, and rewarding classes I took was my textiles class. I loved it so much, and I learned so much—there are still so many things I use on a daily basis (from knowledge about fiber content and the chemical properties of different fibers, to types of fabric, how they are constructed, and their tensile properties). My brief time in Morocco was fascinating in this regard. It was so amazing to see so many beautiful textiles firsthand, to see artisans and weavers at work, and to learn firsthand about the Moroccan textile industry and its history.

This post has felt a little daunting to write, because there is so much to know. I jotted down notes and sketches in my notebook during our trip, but my memory of the textile intricacies of which I learned have been dulled somewhat, simply by the time which has elapsed since then. Like many goods of artisan origins, there are regional and geographic variations and specialties—Morocco is no exception. In each of the places we visited, we saw different skills and arts on display. In Fez, we visited the famed leather tanneries of UNESCO World-Heritage-Site-renown. We also walked the streets of the medina and saw a man spinning cactus fiber (vegan silk!)! In the mountain regions of Chefchaouen, the textiles took on a more rustic quality with heavier wool fibers in rougher (but still stunning) weaves. We also took in the sights of a tile shop, with intricate shapes and colors meant for detailed zellij tilework.

The rug pictured above is one of the two rugs I purchased in Morocco. This rug was from a rug shop in the medina in Marrakesh. We flew in and out of Marrakesh for both directions of our trip. Upon our arrival in Morocco, we had a few hours to spend in Marrakesh before we boarded our overnight sleeper train for Tangier. We lugged our suitcases around with us and went to get a bite to eat in the medina. We had just crossed the Jemaa-el-Fna and followed the walkway into the opening of the medina. As we passed the first couple of shops, we noticed a young Moroccan man wearing, of all things, a UTAH JAZZ BASEBALL CAP! Tippe and I exchanged surprised looks, and we approached him and told him we had just traveled from Utah! As it turned out, he had spent some time during high school as an exchange student with a family in Texas. He fell in love with the Utah Jazz during his time in the states and it was a stroke of fate that we happened to run into him. He ran a clothing shop, and when he heard we were interested in looking at rugs, he told us his uncle owned a rug shop in the medina. He got a friend to cover the store for him and then he led us through several twists and turns to his uncle's shop—I could never have found the shop on my own. We entered and they took us to the back, where they served us mint tea in a sitting area. An international soccer match played on the tv and we chatted and enjoyed the tea. It was nice to have a place to sit and relax after a long stretch of traveling. After some pleasantries and after the conclusion of the soccer match, we stepped into the warehouse area bordering the sofa-and-tv-enclave where we had been. The walls were lined with towering stacks of thick wool rugs, folded and piled (no pun intended) high. The workers removed rug after rug from the stacks and laid them out on the ground, unfolding them in a layered living palimpsest of carpeting, edges and corners peeking through from the lower layers.

As they laid out more rugs, you would indicate which style you liked better, and they would choose the ensuing pieces based on the visual cues and similarities, narrowing in on styles you liked. There were many similar styles with this trellis-like design in black on a cream base. But when they unfurled the rug pictured above, I instantly loved it and it was unlike any of the others I saw. I wanted to buy it, but I wasn't prepared to buy it that night—we had just barely arrived and within hours would board an overnight train for Tangier, winding our way through the country as we visited different cities. It would be at least a week until we were back in Marrakesh and I would be ready to make my final purchases. I thanked the owner (our new friend's uncle) and his employees for giving us such a kind welcome and rolling out all the (red, as the saying goes, though not literally in this case) carpets for us!

I'll spare you the suspense and fast-forward to a week later when we visited our Jazz-fan-friend again and he took us back to his uncle's shop. His uncle knew that I had my heart set on one rug in particular, so he sneakily had his staff bury it in the piles so it would still be there when we came back! What luck! (And seller's intuition!) I was so happy to spend my hard-earned cash on this beautiful piece and it sits in my living room today and makes me happy every time I see it. This began a now-favorite tradition of buying local goods such as textiles or ceramics or candles when I travel—practical objects that carry their own stories and memories but serve very useful functions in my everyday life.

Every action film that has a scene in the medina has hit the nail on the head—it's so easy to get lost in these twists and turns. It's also utterly mesmerizing.

These photos, with their telltale blue backgrounds, are both from Chefchaouen. The more rustic wool textiles in the photo above remind me a lot of some of the ponchos and other woven items my Dad brought back from the Andes mountains when he went to Chile in 2000. They share something of the same mountain-region heartiness. I love that in two entirely different parts of the world, there is something of a resonance between the artisan wares which have been so influenced by their natural environs.

Walking through the marketplaces of Chefchaouen was a singular experience. The feel of the town changed dramatically based on the time of day. During the daytime hours, vendors are open for business, their wares spread and sprawling at the thresholds of the shops. A small plaza was flanked with rugs hung on plastered walls, the corners just barely flapping in the breeze. The canyons of the narrow streets and tall buildings reminded me so much of Siena. The sunlight caught the rug fibers at an oblique angle, adding further texture to these beautiful weavings. In the evening, the shops closed up for the day, with their wares packed tightly inside and the streets left feeling bare without so much movement and texture filling their echoing spaces.

These gorgeous (silk?) thread spools were also in Chefchaouen.

in Chefchaouen - a local textile maker's loom, paused in the midst of work.

The rugs in the photos immediately above and below are silk pieces for sale at the rug co-op in Fez. The colors and textures were absolutely gorgeous—though silk rugs are typically intended for display or wall-hangings, fiber properties being much more fragile as they are. In Fez, we had hired a local guide to take us around, which we organized through the place we stayed (originally we had booked fairly regular/low-budget accommodations at a local hostel—upon arrival, they informed us they were overbooked and did not have space for us. So the proprietors put us up at one of their nearby properties at no extra cost—the upgraded digs ended up being a very nice resort property, where they also connected us with a local guide. He showed us through the medina in Fez and could point out minute observations we would have been oblivious to otherwise. Fez was the only city where we did that but I loved the experience and it was a wonderful moment of cultural exchange in hearing our guide's experiences being raised there and his insight into some of the cultural traditions and customs, such as communal bread ovens, processing olives, and local industry like the leather tanneries). He recommended we visit the local rug co-op, as we were sure to get fair prices there for high-quality pieces—the prices at the co-op were set by the government and were more fair as there wasn't a bartering process in place. We also had the benefit of hearing from employees of the co-op how the rugs were made and seeing more behind the scenes.

above: cactus silk threads/fibers

vegan silk - the process of spinning cactus silk as seen in Fez

The small white parcel above is the rug I bought at the co-op in Fez—the red rug pictured below. It was truly impressive how tightly they wrapped it up—it was small enough (but still dense and heavy!) to fit into my carry-on suitcase, also pictured above. My larger wool rug from Marrakesh came home in a large duffel bag I had brought for the purpose—I was worried the rug would cause the duffel bag's zipper to burst, so I tracked down a hardware store and bought a roll of duct tape which I used to reinforce the seams and zipper of the duffel bag. I was nothing if not committed to bringing my rugs home in one piece! I was also careful during my trip not to purchase anything that exceeded the customs limit of $800 total (I declared my items and their value, but did not have to go through any additional steps upon arrival back in the States because my items did not exceed the $800 limit. I had planned this in advance and so I was very intentional with my purchases).

above and immediately below: wool rug from the Fez co-op

pashmina in a traditional Berber motif

The photos of the pashmina scarf above are one of my other favorite textiles from Morocco. I found several scarves in this style at the clothing shop of the man I mentioned earlier, who Tippe and I met because of his Utah Jazz baseball cap. I asked him about this style of pashmina, because the pattern was so different from the usual paisley pashminas I was used to seeing. He told me that this was a traditional Berber motif! I loved hearing that so much and I bought one of those scarves to memorialize another Moroccan textile tradition in my closet.

I don't have photographs in this post, but some other textiles I bought in Morocco were kilim pillowcovers—I gave some as gifts but kept one which I still need to buy an insert for and use! Kilim are a type of woven textile made from cactus silk. I loved the fact that we saw a man spinning cactus silk and then also saw the finished product in the form of kilim. I bought kilim pillowcovers, but there are also many styles of kilim rugs that are really beautiful. I also bought a Moroccan wedding blanket (visible in the background of this photo) which I use as a cover of sorts on my velvet armchair in my bedroom. The sequins on it are made from real silver and have the loveliest tinkling sound! I also got a couple smaller Moroccan wedding blankets which I gave as Christmas gifts to friends.

Around the time that I went to Morocco, I found a book on clearance called "Marrakesh by Design" that featured many traditional arts and crafts from Morocco (not just Marrakesh). I read the book in its entirety and in that way learned a lot about many different artisans whose work in traditional mediums is seen all over the country. Between this book and what I learned while on my trip, I felt as though I had experienced a masterclass of sorts in Moroccan textiles and tilework. I hope this post is helpful if you find yourself similarly drawn to the gorgeous wares of Moroccan artisans, and hopefully it helps illustrate the regional differences apparent in their work and specialties. I know I barely scratched the surface during my week visiting Morocco years ago, but it was a wonderful experience nonetheless and one that I will never forget.

left: Marimekko's 'Frequency' maxi dress, right: a She In knockoff

Back in May, I visited Age in Arizona (I am long overdue for another visit!). While I was there, we toured Frank Lloyd Wright's Taliesin West, which has been on my list to see since I was in high school! Her aunt and uncle are members and graciously gave us two of their guest passes for a tour.

It was difficult to whittle this post down but still capture the essence of Taliesin West and the details I loved about it. Frank Lloyd Wright is an icon, and his creations always represent for me what architecture should attempt to connote—attention to detail and human scale, an extension of place and fitting within a landscape, and thoughtful design.

Photographs can't do justice to walking through and experiencing one of his creations as a brief inhabitant of the space; the drive to Taliesin West gave me a taste for the desert landscape which enchanted Wright and caused him to locate his architecture school here. The low, flat forms of his buildings echo his earlier works, the Prairie School style of architecture from his early career and for which perhaps he is best known.

The assorted buildings composing the heart of the Taliesin West campus each resonate with their individual, distinctive purposes, but share uniting qualities such as local materials, the use of natural light, and repeated design motifs.

I could write essays on this masterpiece, but so many other, more qualified experts have already done so, so I'll just mention a few of my favorite things from our visit. Perhaps most striking to me was FLW's use of natural light, not only as an element of his final design, but as a defining feature of it. Many of the buildings used tent-like canvas for a roof, clerestory windows, skylights, and entire walls of glass, or varying combinations of these. In many of these features, the geometric shadows made by the architectural detail combined with the harsh Arizona sunlight are striking. I feel like that is what is best captured in these photographs, as well as the angular nature of these buildings and their exteriors and even the exterior shadows. I also loved the sculptural elements throughout the campus—a bronze bust of FLW, stylized animal figurines, geological specimens, mosaics, found petroglyphs on boulders throughout the site, pendant light fixtures, and Chinese ceramic theaters. That's what I loved in a nutshell, but beyond that, I think these photos speak for themselves.

If you find yourself in the Phoenix-Scottsdale area, a trip to Taliesin West is a must and well-worth your time! Beyond the actual site itself, our tour guide was brilliant, we had great company on the tour in our fellow architecture-aficionados, and in our brief glance into the studio space we got to eavesdrop on some great snippets of conversation between the architects at work.

Next on the list of my unofficial-Frank-Lloyd-Wright-oeuvre-tour is Chicago—I have been dying to go for years but need to travel with a fellow architecture lover who is up for a day trip to Oak Park and an afternoon on the architectural river tour! (Any takers?!)

Backdating per usual! This post has been cluttering my drafts for quite some time.

Fez was one of the stops in the middle of our travels in Morocco. I was a little under the weather, just getting over my bout of food poisoning and the worst motion sickness of my life (that bus ride through the Rif Mountains did me in). In Fez, we hired a local guide through the riad where we were staying, and it was one of the best things we could have done! I loved seeing Fez through the eyes of a local, and our experience was vastly different from when we were flying solo as tourists; we were treated very differently when we were accompanied by a Moroccan man who spoke Arabic and English and had friends in various shops throughout the medina.

This is the main gateway into the city and the medina. One side is done in blue-glazed tilework, which symbolizes peace, and the other side is green, the color of Islam. I wanted to include a couple photos because the intricacy of the tilework is amazing; if you click on the photo above, you can see more detail. The view below puts it into a wider context of its surroundings.

The architecture throughout Morocco is amazing. I love the ogee arches, intricate tilework and carvings, and brass lanterns.

We were very excited to see the leather tannery in Fez; it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of few remaining leather tanneries where leather is dyed using pigeon droppings. During the tour, we were each given a sprig of mint to hold to our noses to supplant the stink of the vats below. The site was being restored, so the visible areas were much smaller than what we had expected based on photographs, but it was still amazing to see the process. I also loved seeing the construction workers pause from their labors during the call to prayer—they arranged themselves in their rows for prayer with their fluorescent safety vests and all!

The photo below depicts restoration work taking place in another area of the city. The entire medina of Fez is actually a UNESCO World Heritage Site, so restoration work was being completed throughout the city on behalf of this historic preservation and cultural importance. Our guide pointed out the level of minute detail to which the new areas were being constructed and finished—you can see the comparison below.

One of my favorite things about our time in Fez were the many easily missed cultural tidbits of which our guide made us aware. During our wanderings in the medina (in which we surely would have been lost without our guide!), a young boy passed us carrying a plank of wood with rising dough on it. Our guide explained that in Fez, each family brings their bread to a communal baker in their neighborhood; there is one central oven where all the bread is baked. Each family has a way to distinguish which bread is theirs (whether by the pattern scored on top or seeds sprinkled or some other such method of identification). They drop off their bread in the morning, it is baked and cooled during the day, and they retrieve it from their basket in the evening in time for dinner. This was one of my favorite things that I learned and observed in Morocco, and our time in Fez was filled with such observations. I have a separate post addressing Moroccan textiles which shares another similar anecdote about spinning cactus silk.

If I ever make it back to Morocco, Fez is definitely somewhere I would want to return. We were there for a couple days and barely scratched the surface, but even so, what we did see was fascinating.

Danielle Kroll's State Shapes.

She totally nailed my childhood mental image of NJ!

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I discovered this awesome hashtag: #roointhesky

I've heard of Australian photographer Tim Coulson, but looking through his gorgeous feed again, I am definitely a fan.

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Memphis design always feels very dated to me (ahem), but who knew that the crazy, funky, whimsical patterns and colors would work so well in party supplies! I spotted these on the Oh Happy Day party shop and they are kind of amazing. Taken out of the context of 80s furniture, I'm a fan.

P.S. This article about the resurgence of Memphis design is interesting, and they nailed it with this description: "a veritable 'shotgun wedding between Bauhaus and Fisher-Price.'" YES.

The primary purpose of my NYC trip was to visit my sister, but I was especially excited about the timing, as there are a handful of New York spots I've wanted to visit that don't make sense in the dead of winter.

I've wanted to go to the High Line for years, basically since it opened, but have not been in the city during summer to go!

The High Line is one of New York City's many parks, a section of railway that was repurposed as a public greenway after it feel into disuse and disrepair. The design of the park is beautiful, and there are many different areas for differemt types of activities--stadium-style wooden benches with a large window overlooking the street, a ground-level pool of running water (because all children love splashing), benches under shady trees, reclining seats along the train tracks to sit back and people-watch, and of course, lots of gardens.

Hi, Banksy Einstein!

I've heard many say this is their favorite spot in the city, and I can easily see why. I love that despite its sprawling concrete and steel, New York has some truly amazing outdoor spaces.