It swishes, it swings, it catches the light, and can make even the most respectable (read: boring) armchair look a lot more fabulous. For centuries, that was rather the point of fringe.
But then modernism and minimalism arrived, with their clean lines, sensible upholstery, and apparent objection to anything seen as having too much fun. Fringe was relegated to the dusty edges of interior history, found mostly in antique shops or a particularly committed grandmother's sitting room.
But decorative fashion is cyclical, and fringe has now returned as considerably more considered. Designers are embracing its theatricality while finding new ways to make it feel fresh, irreverent, and decidedly less old-fashioned.
The original overstatement
Some of its earliest appearances of fringe in European interiors date back to the Middle Ages, when decorative trimmings were used on hangings, canopies, beds, and cushions. They were not there to simply look pretty. Elaborate trimmings took time, skill, and money to produce, making them a convenient way of announcing that their owner had plenty of all three.
Things really escalated during the Baroque period. Following the restoration of the English monarchy in the 17th century, tassels and fringes became increasingly elaborate, finding a particularly spectacular home on the state beds of aristocratic households.
The appetite for ornament continued into the 19th century, when industrialisation and the establishment of the middle class made decorative trimmings available to a much wider audience. By the Victorian era, more was more. Fringe eventually became a victim of its own success, however. The design reform movement and later modernism championed simplicity and practicality, leaving fringe to spend much of the 20th century looking distinctly passé.
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A little edge
Fringe's traditional job was essentially to make things look more finished; edging curtains, punctuating upholstery, disguising joins, and giving lampshades, cushions, and furniture an extra flourish. In the right room, it could make a piece feel whimsically polished. In the wrong one, however, it tips from elegant to decidedly fussy. Today, designers are rediscovering that sweet spot. Rather than covering every available surface in tassels, they are using fringe as a deliberate accent on accessories: a neat row around the bottom of an ottoman, a dramatic edge on a lampshade, or a curtain finished with a slightly playful trim. The trick is contrast. Place something traditionally decorative against clean architecture, modern furniture, or use unexpected materials, and suddenly the fringe doesn’t feel like a relic anymore.
Fringe of the future
The real transformation is happening on furniture, where fringe has escaped the hemline and started being treated like a material in its own right. Away from curtains and traditional upholstery, designers are using it to give otherwise straightforward pieces a little more character. The appeal is partly nostalgic, but it is also about texture. In interiors that were previously obsessed with clean silhouettes and hard surfaces, fringe brings softness, movement, and a little visual fuss back into the room.
Designers are also increasingly experimenting with texture, using materials from leather and suede to glossy threads and brightly coloured yarns, taking fringe far beyond the muted trims traditionally associated with antique upholstery. Scale is changing, too. Instead of a discreet line around the bottom of a chair, fringe can become the entire point of the piece.
