It’s just a carpet.
But it isn't, is it? If you’ve seen Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 masterpiece, you know exactly what those orange, brown, and red hexagons look like. You can probably feel the rough pile under Danny Torrance’s tricycle wheels. The Shining rug, technically known as the "Hicks' Hexagon" pattern, is perhaps the most famous piece of flooring in cinematic history. It’s more than a set decoration; it’s a psychological trigger.
Most people assume Kubrick’s team just picked a loud 70s pattern to make the Overlook Hotel look dated. That’s wrong. Every inch of that hotel was meticulously curated to induce a sense of "spatial impossibility." The rug is the centerpiece of that disorientation. Designed by legendary interior designer David Hicks in the 1960s, the pattern is mathematically aggressive. It’s a repetitive, interlocking series of hexagons that seems to trap the eye in a loop. When Danny plays with his toys on those patterns, the rug doesn't just sit there. It frames him. It boxes him in.
The designer behind the dread: David Hicks and the 1960s vibe
David Hicks was a bit of a rebel. In a world of safe, floral prints, he pushed geometric boldness. The specific pattern used in the film is called "Hicks' Hexagon," and it actually predates the movie by quite a bit. Hicks wasn’t trying to be scary. He was trying to be chic. He wanted to modernize English interiors by mixing old-school furniture with vibrant, hard-edged graphics.
Why did Kubrick pick it?
Kubrick was obsessed with symmetry and "one-point perspective." If you look at the way the camera follows Danny down the hallways of the Overlook, the lines of the The Shining rug converge at a single point on the horizon. This creates a tunneling effect. It makes the hallway feel infinite and claustrophobic at the same time. It’s a visual contradiction. Hicks' design provided the perfect grid for this. It’s a cage. It’s a labyrinth laid flat on the floor.
Interestingly, Hicks himself was a giant in the design world, decorating for royalty and the elite. He probably didn't realize his pattern would become synonymous with a descent into axe-wielding madness. The rug we see in the film isn't the only one in the hotel, but it's the one that stuck. It’s the one that gets turned into socks, leggings, and coffee mugs today.
💡 You might also like: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
Why the colors and shapes actually mess with your head
There’s a reason your brain reacts to those specific colors.
The palette is deeply unsettling. You have a muddy brown, a muted red, and a piercing, almost sickly orange. In color psychology, orange can represent energy, but when paired with brown and red in a sharp geometric pattern, it feels claustrophobic and "hot." It feels like a fever dream.
- The Red: Obviously symbolizes the blood that eventually floods the elevators.
- The Brown: Grounds the scene in a gritty, 1970s realism that feels dusty and decaying.
- The Orange: Acts as a warning light, constantly flashing under the characters' feet.
The shape matters too. The hexagon is nature’s most efficient shape—think honeycombs. But in the Overlook, it’s distorted. In the famous scene where the ball rolls to Danny, the pattern actually changes orientation. Some conspiracy theorists (and there are many, as seen in the documentary Room 237) claim the pattern's shift is a deliberate clue about the film's "true" meaning, whether that's the faking of the moon landing or the genocide of Native Americans.
Honestly? Kubrick was a perfectionist. He didn't do anything by accident. If the rug pattern shifts or if a door is in a place it shouldn't be, it's because he wanted you to feel like the building was alive and shifting. The rug is the map of a house that doesn't want you to leave.
The "Room 237" effect: Decoding the carpet’s secrets
If you want to go down a rabbit hole, look at how fans have dissected The Shining rug over the last forty years. One of the most popular theories suggests the hexagons represent the Apollo 11 launch pad. People point to the way the pattern looks like a stylized aerial view of a rocket gantry. Since Danny is wearing an Apollo 11 sweater in that scene, people lose their minds.
Is it true?
📖 Related: Ted Nugent State of Shock: Why This 1979 Album Divides Fans Today
Probably not. But the fact that a carpet pattern can sustain decades of academic and amateur debate tells you everything about its power. It’s "semiotic" wallpaper. It carries meaning because Kubrick stripped the hotel of normal, comforting items. There are no cozy blankets or soft edges. Everything is hard, bright, and repetitive.
The rug also serves as a brilliant contrast to the "Twin" sisters. When Danny encounters them, the blue of their dresses clashes violently with the orange and brown of the floor. It’s a visual "discord." Your eyes don't know where to rest. It forces you to look at the girls, but the floor keeps pulling your peripheral vision away. It’s exhausting to watch. That’s the point.
From the screen to your living room: The cult of Hicks’ Hexagon
You can buy this rug right now.
Not the original—that’s likely in a warehouse or a private collection—but countless companies produce "The Overlook Carpet" for horror fans. It’s a badge of honor for cinephiles. Putting it in your house is a weird flex. It says, "I like high-concept horror and I’m okay with my hallway looking like a psychological trap."
But be careful.
Designers often warn that using such a bold, repetitive pattern in a small space can actually cause eye strain and anxiety. It’s a pattern designed to be seen in a massive, empty hotel. In a 2-bedroom apartment? It’s a lot. It’s loud. It’s aggressive.
👉 See also: Mike Judge Presents: Tales from the Tour Bus Explained (Simply)
How to spot the real pattern vs. the knockoffs
If you’re looking to bring some of that Kubrick energy into your life, you’ll notice that not all "Shining rugs" are created equal. Some get the proportions wrong. The original Hicks’ Hexagon has a very specific "line weight." The borders of the hexagons are thick, creating a heavy, weighted feel.
- Look at the centers: The inner hexagon should be a solid block of color, usually that muddy brown.
- Check the "tongue": The way the shapes interlock should look like a stylized "Y" or a tongue-and-groove joint.
- Color Accuracy: Cheap versions often make the orange too bright—like a safety vest. The movie version is more of a burnt, autumnal orange.
What we can learn from a 40-year-old carpet
The legacy of The Shining rug is a lesson in visual storytelling. You don’t need dialogue to tell the audience that a place is evil. You don't even need monsters. Sometimes, all you need is a floor that looks like it’s trying to swallow the characters whole.
It reminds us that our environment dictates our mood. Kubrick understood that human beings are subconsciously affected by geometry. We find comfort in certain shapes and distress in others. By taking a sophisticated Hicks design and placing it in a context of isolation and violence, Kubrick permanently "re-branded" the pattern.
If you're a filmmaker or a designer, the takeaway is simple: detail is everything. The floor is never just a floor. The walls are never just walls. Everything is an opportunity to tell the story.
Moving forward with your Overlook obsession
If you're ready to dive deeper into the world of film aesthetics or if you're actually planning to redecorate your hallway with this iconic pattern, keep a few things in mind. First, balance is key. If you go for the full Hicks' Hexagon, keep the walls neutral. You don't want to live inside a panic attack.
Second, watch the movie again, but this time, don't look at Jack Nicholson. Look at the floor. Watch how the lines of the carpet guide your eyes toward things you’re supposed to be afraid of. It’s a masterclass in direction.
Next Steps for the curious:
- Research David Hicks: Look up his other patterns like "Hicks' Lattice." You'll see how he influenced modern interior design far beyond the horror genre.
- Check out 'Room 237': This documentary is the "gold standard" for Shining theories. Even if you don't believe the moon landing stuff, the visual analysis of the hotel's layout is fascinating.
- Measure your space: If you’re buying a replica, ensure the scale of the hexagon matches your room. A large-scale pattern in a tiny room will make the walls feel like they’re closing in—which is great for a movie, but maybe not for your morning coffee.
The Overlook isn't real, but the way its design makes us feel is. That rug is the thread that ties the whole nightmare together. It’s beautiful, it’s symmetrical, and it’s deeply, deeply wrong. And that’s why we can’t stop looking at it.