Beni M'Guild, c.1980

460 × 190 cm15.1 × 6.2 ft

€3,625

GLB-101767

Ships from Marrakech in 3–5 business days.

Only one made. Hand-knotted once, for a household, never reproduced.
Chosen in Marrakech. Seen, measured and photographed by us, front and back.
Rolled and insured. Worldwide, with the duties explained before you pay.

Size: 460 × 190 cm · 15.1 × 6.2 ft
Pile: Medium
Age: Vintage
Material: 100% wool
Condition: Very Good
Made: By hand, on a vertical loom, once. Small irregularities in the edges and the pattern are part of it.
Reference: GLB-101767

Hand-knotted in Morocco from mountain wool and found in the valleys where these traditions live, not in a factory and not made to an export size. The slight irregularities are the weaver’s hand; the softness is the years. No two were ever the same, and this one is now yours alone.

The women of the Beni M'Guild, an Amazigh (Berber) confederation near Khenifra, weave a dense, deep-coloured pile rug that carries the same name as their tribe.

Origin. Beni M'Guild confederation, Middle Atlas (Khenifra), Morocco

Technique. Pile-knotted; deep pile on wool foundation

Palette. Burgundy, madder red, saffron, and a blue close to indigo, worked over ivory

Read the full Beni M'Guild tradition →

Vacuum gently and without a beater bar. Rotate periodically for even wear. Blot spills immediately, never rub. Professional cleaning only; these are natural-dye wool pieces and should never be machine washed.

A natural wool rug ages into its character. Minor shedding in the first months is normal and settles with use.

Full care and shipping →

Also in: Runners for hallways and kitchens · Statement rugs · Vintage Moroccan rugs · Beni M'Guild rugs · Purple and plum rugs · Colourful rugs

Ships worldwide from Marrakech, generally within 3–5 business days. Shipping costs are confirmed at checkout or on inquiry.

All sales are final. Transit damage is covered when reported within 48 hours of receipt.

Returns policy →

The story of this rug

Every Colour She Had Left

The last of the madder, the last of the indigo,
a handful of saffron wool from a wedding.
She tied them all in, one after the other,
and the loom ran out before she did.

Thirty kilos. That is what this rug weighs, and you feel every one of them the moment you try to move it. Somewhere in the cedar country of the Middle Atlas a woman set out to weave the longest piece her loom would hold, four and a half metres, and she used everything: the red she had boiled for a daughter's trousseau, the purple that is the Beni M'Guild's own, oranges, greens, a dark ground to hold them. It is not a pattern so much as a season of colour, band after band, each one a decision. The pile has worn to a comfortable two centimetres, dense and even, and the colours have settled together the way old friends do.

It wants a long room: a hallway in a townhouse, a studio, the run between kitchen and garden door. Nothing else on the floor will be necessary.

Handwoven rugs grow in beauty, memory, and value with every passing year.