Current Inspiration #22

There’s something about summer that asks us to dial it down a notch: the light lingers longer, the days feel softer, and everything (including our design pace) adopts a little more ease. Between studio brainstorms and outdoor lunches, we’ve been soaking up inspiration from near and far.

This round, we’re feeling grounded by the handwoven beauty of some very special ethical, handmade Moroccan rugs, captivated by the raw presence of brutalist architecture across the Balkans (and everywhere else, as it is currently trending in the design world), empowering ourselves to be more conscious about consumption thanks to some expert insight, and reflecting on the lovely contrast between the French reverence for August vacations and the American urge to keep going.

Here’s what’s currently inspiring us at MAREDI Design:

Bonjour Morocco

Earlier this year, we took a deeply memorable trip to Marrakesh—one that filled our senses and left us buzzing with design inspiration. A major highlight: finally connecting with Salam Hello, a rug brand we’ve admired from afar for years.

Rooted in sustainable and ethical production, Salam Hello works directly with Amazigh women across Morocco to preserve centuries-old weaving traditions. Each piece is crafted with intention, storytelling woven into every thread. As it turns out, we share a lot of similar passions, so this spring, Mallory, Salam Hello’s co-founder and CEO, joined us on the podcast to talk about heritage, craftsmanship, and building a values-driven design brand (listen to the episode here).

And—spoiler alert—we might just have something exciting in the works together. But you’ll have to stay tuned for that!

Eastern Inspiration

Lately, there’s been a renewed buzz around Brutalist design—but for us, it’s nothing new. One of our earliest sources of inspiration? Serbia. Across the country—and much of the Balkans—Brutalist architecture isn’t just a trend, it’s part of the urban landscape. Born from post-war necessity, this style was shaped by a utilitarian approach: raw materials, especially concrete, were used to create massive, functional structures with striking forms.

In Eastern Europe, Brutalism became a visual response to scarcity and a reflection of collective needs—an often misunderstood but deeply compelling aesthetic. What continues to fascinate us is how this industrial, no-frills design philosophy extends beyond architecture. From monumental buildings to understated product design, the legacy of Brutalist ideals—function, honesty, form—continues to influence creativity throughout the region. Sometimes, beauty lies in the bare essentials.

A Conscious Summer Read

This one might ruffle a few feathers—but it really shouldn’t. Ashlee Piper, sustainability expert and author, has released a powerful new book: No New Things. Known for her practical approach to eco-conscious living, Piper offers a refreshing look at how mindful consumption can ease more than just environmental impact.

Despite what the title suggests, the book doesn’t demand perfection or a lifetime ban on shopping (we are designers after all, and sourcing items is very much a part of the job). Instead, it unpacks our cultural addiction to consumption—why we buy, what it costs us, and how shifting our habits can reduce debt, clear clutter, and support our wellbeing. Described as “the antidote to modern overwhelm,” No New Things is part manifesto, part guide—for anyone craving a calmer, more conscious way to live in the chaos of now. Sustainable living, simplified.

Summer Time vs Les Grandes Vacances

August in France is almost a collective breath of relief. The country slows down; shops close, offices empty, and even the boulangeries hang up their “Fermé pour vacances” signs. This sacred pause—the “grandes vacances”—isn’t just a matter of tradition or weather, but a reflection of how deeply the French value leisure, family, and the art of savoring life. Time off isn’t a luxury, it’s essential. In the US, August is simply another page on the calendar. Work continues, and summer breaks come in scattered days.

The French approach—where nearly everyone hits pause at once—emerges from a culture that sees time away as essential to happiness and creativity. In August, the joie de vivre isn’t aspirational; it’s practiced daily, and the entire country grants itself permission to enjoy—unapologetically. Maybe it’s time we borrowed this sense of sacred slowness—if only for a weekend.