Forty-five minutes outside of Marrakech, past olive groves and low-slung houses, an age-old ritual unfolds. Inside a sun-filled atelier in the village of Tameslouht, women sit on low wooden stools, their fingers weaving threads stretched tightly around looms. Blocks of pattern emerge in vivid claret and soft ecrus, rhythmic lines and gentle geometrics slowly taking shape. Outside, finished rugs hang like sails in the wind. Some repeat minimal motifs in creams and rust while others shimmer with saturated ochres or fragments that look like brushstrokes. Each one carries the imprint of the women who made them.
Birthed in 2018 by creatives Robert Wright and Tiberio Lobo-Navia, Beni Rugs was born from a shared love of creating something slower and more intentional. At the time, Wright was working in fashion communications in New York, when a work trip brought him to Marrakech. The day started with a photoshoot in an old rug shop in Medina. “We were supposed to shoot for a couple of hours,” he recalls. “But we ended up immersed in the textures and the whole feeling of the place.” A few conversations with local shop owners turned into a months-long research of Morocco’s rug industry. Wright learned about the techniques used in ancestral weaving, the natural dyes employed and the storytelling aspect portrayed through the symbols woven into each design.
Soon, both Wright and Lobo-Navia – who came from a hospitality and design background – were regularly visiting Marrakech to assemble what would become one of the country’s most innovative rug ateliers. Their aim was clear: to honour Moroccan weaving traditions while building a model centred on the artisans themselves. “We realised early on that most weavers, especially women, were cut off from the real value of their work,” says Lobi-Navia. “They were often working at home or in male-led cooperatives, and had very little control or recognition.”
In 2021, after briefly working with cooperatives around the country, the founders opened their own atelier – Beni Rugs. Now, every part of the creative process happens within their 10,000-square-foot workshop. From design and dyeing to washing and trimming, each rug is formed in-house. At the centre of the process is Rachida Ouilki, a master weaver and the first person Wright and Lobo-Navia brought on board. Now head of training and technique, Ouilki began weaving at the age of 12, learning alongside her mother and sister in a small workshop in Marrakech. “After three years, we were able to start making rugs at home. My mother took the orders, and we would spend hours weaving together,” she recalls. The memory of that early learning is still vivid. “They used to sing when they started working on a rug,” she says.
Ouilki’s journey led her to independent workshops before she was introduced to Wright and Lobo-Navia through a Medina-based dyer. “They gave me a sample pattern to complete as a test. They were happy with my work, so we began to build a team of Beni weavers and products together,” she recalls. Today, Ouilki oversees training, mentors new artisans and collaborates closely with the design team. “Before, I had to do everything – buy materials, find orders and source clients. Now I have a stable income and can just focus on the craft,” she says.
The focus at Beni remains its community of weavers. The studio is not just a workplace, but a space designed for comfort and continuity. There’s a courtyard where the women have tea, with each loom offering views of the central garden. Transport and lunch are provided, with childcare also accounted for. Every worker is paid two to four times the national average, with salaries increasing as their skill level advances. Thanks to the founders’ ethical practices, Beni Rugs is one of the few Moroccan rug ateliers certified by Label Step, a fair trade organisation protecting the rights of weavers worldwide. This kind of infrastructure is rare in the rug industry.
“Most of these women had never seen their craft treated with this kind of respect,” emphasises Lobo-Navia. “They’re used to being invisible in the process. We wanted to change that.” Ouilki agrees: “Here, I feel proud,” she says. “I am able to practise my craft while also earning good money.” Some weavers arrive with experience, while others learn from scratch. Beni’s training system allows them to move from apprentice to technician to master, creating a long-term career path. Wahiba El Garrai, 22, joined after her mother encouraged her to apply. “She started working here first and was very happy with the environment,” says Garrai. In her early months, she learned everything from knotting to flat-weaving, then gradually how to interpret and execute complex designs. “When I weave, it feels like I’m drawing – it’s how I express myself,” she shares. The impact is personal and generational.
Beni continues to evolve its approach based on the weavers’ needs. While the central atelier remains the creative hub, the team is now building satellite studios in rural areas. “We realised that not every woman can – or should – leave her village,” says Lobo-Navia. “We want to bring the work closer to them, so they can stay rooted in their communities.” The first hub is complete, and set to open this month. “It’s about meeting people where they are,” he continues. “Not disrupting their lives, but enhancing them.” For the founders, this balance between innovation and heritage defines Beni Rugs. While the methods used follow age-old weaving practices, the designs themselves are contemporary and created in-house. Some rugs begin with a sketch while others evolve from a colour palette or material. Recent collections have drawn on everything from Brazilian modernism to Bauhaus.
A 2024 collaboration with French design firm Studio KO drew on the idea of memory and ways of recording history, resulting in a line that played with symmetry and texture. While many clients choose from the in-house collections – often inspired by art movements, architectural periods or specific palettes – some arrive with visions of their own. Those seeking something personal are invited to Beni’s Tribeca or Marrakech showroom, where they’re offered mint tea and Moroccan dates before looking over yarn swatches.
“It’s deeply collaborative,” says Lobo-Navia. “We go through a few iterations, translating the client’s inspiration into something that can live in wool and knot.” The process begins with a visual framework, then sketches and renderings are developed before weaving begins. A standard two‑by‑three‑metre rug takes roughly 12‑16 weeks: six to eight weeks for weaving, two weeks for washing, and a week or more for trimming and finishing. The washing is rigorous, with some rugs going through multiple cycles to ensure texture and softness.
The weavers are involved throughout the process, and master weavers like Ouilki weigh in on the feasibility of each project. Technical challenges, including the yarn thickness, knots and tension, are worked through collaboratively. “We aren’t just replicating the same old patterns anymore,” she says. “We’re discovering new ones.” For the co-founders, this collaboration is essential. “We do not impose a design and just walk away,” says Wright. “The women are involved in how it’s made and what needs adjusting. There's always a dialogue.”
Each rug produced by the atelier carries this legacy; a collaboration between ancestral practices and contemporary design. Once completed, the pieces are sent off to living rooms and spaces across the world. “They become the foundation of the room,” Wright concludes. “Often, they’re centred in places where we gather to talk or to share a meal. There’s something deeply human about this process. These rugs carry the stories of the hands that wove them, and once in a home, they begin holding new ones.
This article was originally published in the September issue of Vogue Arabia.
