How do you honor tradition while embracing innovation? How do you run a family business in the 21st century that stays true to values established generations ago? These are questions I grapple with daily as I lead Cyrus Artisan Rugs and Woven Arts. Today, I want to share some reflections on this balancing act.
Choosing Minneapolis: Location as Strategy
When I decided to establish my businesses, I had options. I could have gone to New York, with its established luxury market and international collectors. I could have chosen Los Angeles, with its entertainment industry clientele and design-forward culture. But I chose Minneapolis.
Why? Because Minneapolis has something special—a thriving arts community, a population that values quality and authenticity, a manageable market size that allows for personal relationships, and a culture of supporting local businesses. It's a city that appreciates craftsmanship without the pretension you sometimes find in larger markets.
Plus, being a slightly unexpected location for a high-end rug business creates its own mystique. People are curious. They want to know the story. And story, as I've learned, is everything in this business.
Two Businesses, One Vision
Running both Cyrus Artisan Rugs and Woven Arts might seem like splitting my focus, but I see them as complementary expressions of the same core passion. Cyrus Artisan Rugs honors the classical—antique and vintage pieces, traditional designs, the weight of history. Woven Arts looks forward—contemporary textile art, innovative techniques, the evolution of the tradition.
This dual approach allows me to serve different client needs while maintaining a cohesive vision. Some clients come seeking a museum-quality antique Persian rug for their traditional home. Others want a contemporary fiber art piece that makes a bold statement in their modern loft. I can serve both, and often, the same client at different times.
The Personal Touch in a Digital Age
One of the biggest business challenges I face is how to maintain the personal, relationship-based nature of my work while adapting to modern consumer expectations. People expect to research online, see inventory, read reviews, sometimes purchase without ever visiting a physical location.
But rugs—especially fine, antique rugs—really need to be experienced in person. The texture, the way light plays across the pile, how the colors shift as you move around them, the size and scale in a real space—none of this translates through a screen.
"In an age of instant digital gratification, I'm selling patience, tactile beauty, and century-old stories. It requires a different kind of marketing."
My approach has been to use digital platforms for education and relationship-building rather than just transactions. Through detailed blog posts, behind-the-scenes content, and educational videos, I try to help people understand what makes these pieces special before they ever contact me. By the time someone reaches out, they're usually already invested in the story.
Fair Trade and Ethical Sourcing
Running a legacy business today means being held accountable to higher standards than my ancestors faced. Consumers rightfully want to know: Where do these rugs come from? Who made them? Were they compensated fairly? Are the practices sustainable?
I've made it a cornerstone of my business to work directly with weaving cooperatives and artisan communities where possible. I visit production sites. I establish relationships with the weavers themselves, not just middlemen. I ensure that the prices I pay allow for fair compensation.
This isn't just ethical—it's also good business. Clients increasingly want this assurance. They want to know their purchase supports artisan communities rather than exploits them. They want sustainability stories they can feel good about.
Education as Marketing
One of my unconventional business decisions has been to invest heavily in education. I offer workshops on rug care, host talks about textile history, provide detailed consultations even for clients who may not be ready to purchase.
Some business advisors have questioned this approach. "You're giving away expertise!" they say. But I see it differently. By educating people about what makes rugs valuable, I'm creating more sophisticated collectors who appreciate quality. I'm building trust and relationships that last decades.
A client who attends one of my workshops might not buy for three years—but when they do, they're informed, confident buyers who become advocates for my business. That's worth more than a quick sale to someone who doesn't really understand what they're purchasing.
The Challenge of Patience in an Impatient World
Perhaps my biggest business challenge is selling patience in an impatient world. Everything in modern culture pushes toward fast, cheap, disposable. I'm offering the opposite: slow, expensive, heirloom quality.
When someone balks at the price of a hand-knotted rug, I don't just defend the cost—I reframe the conversation. "This isn't an expense; it's a multi-generational investment. Your great-grandchildren will be enjoying this rug. How many things can you say that about?"
I share stories of clients who inherited rugs from grandparents, pieces that appreciated in value while also carrying deep sentimental worth. I help them understand that buying quality isn't extravagance—it's wisdom.
Adaptation Without Compromise
The businesses my ancestors ran looked very different from mine. They didn't worry about Instagram, online reviews, or digital marketing. But the core principles remain the same: know your product intimately, value relationships over transactions, never compromise on quality, be honest about what you're selling.
I've adapted the methods while preserving the values. I use social media to tell stories, not just push products. I maintain a website, but I encourage showroom visits. I accept credit cards, but I still offer the same personalized consultation my grandfather would have given.
Building for the Next Generation
Although I don't know if there will be a sixth generation of Farahans in this business, I run these enterprises as if there will be. I document processes. I build relationships that extend beyond myself. I invest in the community and the broader rug industry.
I've mentored several young people interested in textile arts. Some may become competitors, but I see that as positive. A rising tide lifts all boats. The more people who understand and appreciate fine rugs, the healthier the entire ecosystem becomes.
The Rewards of This Path
Running a legacy business in the modern age isn't easy. The margins are often slimmer than in mass-market retail. The pace is slower. The scale is limited by the personal nature of the work.
But the rewards are profound. I get to work with beautiful objects every day. I help people find pieces that will become treasured family heirlooms. I support artisan communities around the world. I preserve cultural traditions that might otherwise fade. I build deep, lasting relationships with clients who often become friends.
At the end of each day, when I lock the showroom doors and look around at the rugs surrounding me—each one a story, each one a bridge between past and present—I feel deeply grateful. This isn't just business. It's calling. It's legacy. It's love made manifest in wool and silk.
And that's worth all the challenges of balancing tradition and innovation in 21st century Minneapolis.