There's a moment in every home renovation that feels less like progress and more like controlled chaos. You're knee-deep in dust, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, and the sweet smell of brewing curd mixes with the sound of a power drill. That's exactly where we find Milad and Mahin in their new home journey—a raw, unfiltered look at what it really means to make a space your own, one second-hand carpet and handmade lamp at a time.
What struck me most about their process wasn't the end result, but the journey itself. There's no IKEA flat-pack assembly line here. No Pinterest-perfect mood boards. Instead, it's a slow, intentional dance of measuring, cutting, gluing, and adjusting—with family members dropping by to lend a hand, offer unsolicited advice, and share a cup of tea. This is decorating as a communal act, not a solo project.
The Philosophy
At its core, this video captures something we've lost in the age of instant gratification: the art of making do and mending. Milad and Mahin aren't buying a whole new house worth of furniture. They're repurposing, reusing, and repairing. When a carpet is too short, they don't return it—they lay a rug underneath. When a door opens the wrong way, they accept it. When a lamp needs installation, they rig up a creative solution with a branch and a piece of tarp.
The philosophy here is radical in its simplicity: your home doesn't need to be perfect to be beautiful. It needs to be functional, comfortable, and infused with your personality. For Milad and Mahin, that means a desk placed under a window for fresh air while studying, a mirror glued onto a wall that was forgotten during plastering, and a makeshift table created from a pallet to hold dishes.
This resonates deeply because it's the opposite of the consumerist treadmill. Instead of buying a solution for every problem, they're problem-solving with what they have. It's slow living in practice—not as a hashtag, but as a lived reality.
The Practice
So how does this actually work? Let's break down their practical approach, because there's a lot we can steal for our own spaces.
First, there's the intentional layout. Milad insists on putting his desk under the window: "You can put your desk under the window to have fresh air when you're studying." This isn't just about aesthetics—it's about creating a space that supports your daily rituals. Think about where you actually spend time and optimize for that. For Milad, that means a spot with natural light and ventilation.
Then there's the carpet layering. When a 3.6-meter carpet doesn't quite fit a 4-meter space, they don't panic. They reverse the layout, add a rug underneath, and accept the imperfection. "It is beautiful now," Mahin says. This is a masterclass in letting go of perfectionism. In my own home, I've learned that the best spaces are the ones that feel lived-in, not staged.
The glass installation is another lesson. They measure, cut, and install themselves—saving money and gaining skills. "Install the glass, Milad," Mahin instructs. And he does, without fuss. This DIY spirit is empowering. You don't need to be a professional to hang a mirror or cut a piece of glass. You just need patience and a willingness to try.
Finally, there's the lighting. They opt for two separate lamps instead of one twin-lamp, allowing them to control brightness in different zones. "Separate lamps are better, please," Milad insists. This is a smart, functional choice that many of us overlook. Good lighting can transform a room more than any piece of furniture.
Real Talk
Let's be honest: this approach isn't always easy. The video shows moments of frustration—a door that opens the wrong way, a carpet that's the wrong size, a headache that sidelines one of them. "I have a headache," Mahin says at one point, and Milad offers to take her to a clinic. This is real life, not a highlight reel.
The hardest part? The sheer time and effort involved. Brewing curd takes hours. Measuring and adjusting carpets requires multiple trips. Installing a mirror means mixing plaster and waiting for it to dry. This isn't a weekend project; it's a lifestyle of slow, steady progress.
What didn't work for me personally when I tried a similar approach was the temptation to compromise too much. There's a fine line between being resourceful and settling for something that genuinely doesn't work. If a door opens the wrong way every single day, that's not character—it's an annoyance. The key is knowing when to accept imperfection and when to push for a better solution.
Also, not everyone has a network of friends like Ghadir and Mohammed who show up to help with wiring and heavy lifting. If you're doing this alone, the emotional and physical toll can be greater. The video's communal spirit is beautiful, but it's also a privilege.
The Transformation
Despite the challenges, the transformation is undeniable. By the end of the video, a bare room has become a home. Carpets are laid, lamps are hung, glass is installed, and a desk sits by the window. The space feels warm, intentional, and lived-in.
The biggest shift is in mindset. Milad and Mahin go from being renters or guests in someone else's space to being creators of their own environment. They're not just decorating—they're building a life. When Mahin says, "We want to live here from now on," it's a declaration of ownership, both literal and emotional.
For me, the most unexpected benefit was the sense of accomplishment that comes from doing things yourself. Every time I look at a piece of furniture I assembled or a wall I painted, I feel a small surge of pride. It's my space because I made it that way. The same happens for Milad and Mahin—the imperfections become stories, not flaws.
There's also a financial transformation. By buying second-hand carpets, repurposing materials, and doing their own labor, they're saving significant money. That's money that can go toward experiences, savings, or other priorities. In a world where home decor can easily spiral into thousands of dollars, this is a refreshing alternative.
Adapting It For You
You don't need to be moving into a new home to apply these principles. Here's how to adapt them to your own life, regardless of your budget or living situation.
If you're a renter, focus on temporary, non-destructive changes. Use removable adhesive hooks for mirrors and shelves. Layer rugs to define spaces. Invest in good lighting that you can take with you. The key is to make the space feel like yours without risking your security deposit.
If you're on a tight budget, start with one room—or even one corner. Find one second-hand piece you love, like a vintage lamp or a wooden table. Build around it. Don't try to furnish everything at once. Slow and intentional is better than fast and generic.
If you're a perfectionist, this might be the hardest challenge. Embrace the idea that a 3.6-meter carpet in a 4-meter space is not a failure—it's an opportunity to be creative. The most interesting homes are the ones with quirks.
Finally, if you're doing this solo, don't be afraid to ask for help. Post on social media, trade favors, or hire a task rabbit for one specific job. You don't have to do it all alone. The communal spirit of Milad and Mahin's journey is something we can all recreate, even in small ways.
Start Here
If you're ready to make your space feel more like home, here are three small steps you can take this week:
1. **Identify one functional change.** Like Milad's desk by the window, think about where you spend the most time and optimize that spot. Move a chair closer to natural light, or clear a surface that's always cluttered. One small change can shift your entire experience of a room.
2. **Visit a thrift store or flea market.** Look for one item that speaks to you—a lamp, a rug, a piece of art. Don't overthink it. The goal is to bring something unique into your space that has a story, not just a price tag.
3. **Fix one small thing yourself.** A wobbly table leg, a loose door handle, a mirror that needs hanging. You don't need to be handy—YouTube tutorials are your friend. The act of repairing something yourself builds confidence and connection to your space.
Remember, home isn't a destination. It's a continuous process of making, mending, and meaning. Milad and Mahin remind us that the journey itself is where the beauty lies.
