I found my perfect rug at the perfect price – one that can handle muddy paws, popcorn explosions and everyday chaos, whilst still making my heart sing

Screen printer Hannah Carvell is one of Ideal Home's new Open House contributors, sharing her thoughts on colourful home design for a creative family to live in. See the rest of her articles here.

We’re now two years into life in our Somerset cottage and somewhat to my relief I still absolutely love it. After a large-scale renovation of a Victorian townhouse, we were very intentional about choosing a home we could simply move into and live in. No scaffolding. No dust sheets. No builders drinking tea in the hallway.

If I’m honest, there was also the small matter of our renovation budget being significantly slimmer than it once was. More importantly, we wanted to enjoy this fresh start without the stress and upheaval that comes with major works.

That said, two years in, the cracks are (quite literally) beginning to show. Some projects will need serious saving for. Others, I’m tackling slowly and creatively transforming the interiors bit by bit on a tight budget.

The living room is next.

It hasn’t been touched since we moved in. When we viewed the house, formerly a B&B it was set up as a breakfast dining room, dotted with small tables. It’s a long space with very low ceilings and dark wooden floors. In winter, with the log burner lit and lamps glowing, it feels wonderfully cosy. But in daylight, the chipped white paint and heavily scratched, water-marked flooring feel tired and heavy.

One day, I’ll repaint. Perhaps even replace the floors (though sanding may not rescue them). Ideally, I’d replace them and choose something lighter to lift the ceiling visually. But for now, budgets don’t stretch that far so I’ve decided the next best thing is to cover what I can’t change.

Rugs.

What an absolute minefield.

For months, I’ve fallen down an online rabbit hole most evenings. On my imaginary mood board lives a layered, bohemian dream: vintage kilims artfully overlapping, rich Afghan and Turkish rugs in faded jewel tones, that effortless 'collected over time on my travels' look.

Reality? Those antiques are rare, and when they do appear on Facebook Marketplace, eBay or Vinted, they’re either snapped up instantly or well beyond my budget. I follow a woman on Instagram who seems to find the most exquisite pieces weekly at car boot sales and resells them at prices that remind me just how good she is at sourcing.

There’s also the question of buying second-hand. I say this as someone with three dogs, a cat and, occasionally, a house chicken: the fear of inherited smells is real.

I have, in the past, succumbed to the lure of beautiful Berber rugs. The fluffy, colourful darlings of Instagram. I splurged on one from West Elm and another from an independent seller I found on instagram importing from Morocco. They were stunning soft, vibrant, colourful. They were also wildly impractical.

Deep pile and pets are not a happy pairing. Add children, popcorn, Lego, loom bands and the general debris of family life and you have a textile graveyard. I still feel a tug when I see those handmade works of art on my feed from time to time, but I’ve had to accept they’re not built for my chaotic household.

So I turned to the high street: Dunelm, IKEA, and the ever-present targeted ads for Ruggable. Washable, pet-friendly, child-proof all very sensible. But up close, many felt like a photograph of a vintage rug printed onto fabric. Practical? Absolutely. But for £400+ for a mid-sized rug, I wasn’t convinced. I worried it would feel like an imitation of the dream rather than the real thing.

I was close to giving up when an advert for Habitat popped up one evening. Burgundy, moss green, mid-century energy, wool AND £210 all the things I like at a price I can afford.

I clicked. It turns out Habitat has quietly launched a genuinely beautiful new collection, affordable but properly made. I’ve opted for a maximalist dream: a Marble Luxe wool rug in 160x230cm. At £210, it feels like an absolute steal.

I’m planning to paint the living room green eventually, and with patterned sofas and colourful art already in the space, I faced a choice: calm things down… or lean all the way in.

You can guess which I chose. Maximalism won. Again.

A couple of cushions may also have fallen into my basket (including the Harlequin Printed Bolster and the Woven Stripe in Green). At £14 each, they feel reminiscent of my treasured pieces by Donna Wilson, and the rug itself gives a subtle nod to Henry Holland but without the designer price tag.

And perhaps that’s where I’ve landed with this whole rug saga. Sometimes the 'perfect' piece isn’t the rare vintage find or the investment designer splurge. Sometimes it’s the option that balances beauty with real life, something that can handle muddy paws, popcorn explosions and everyday chaos, while still making your heart lift when you walk into the room.

For now, covering the floor feels like progress. A small shift with big impact. Proof that you don’t need a full renovation budget to transform a space just patience, persistence and a willingness to scroll very, very deeply.