Not to be dramatic, but tartan might be one of the most misunderstood patterns in the design world. Or at the very least, one of the most misidentified. What’s the difference between tartan and plaid anyway? They’re both checked patterns, right? 

 

Let’s clear this up once and for all: all tartans are plaid, but not all plaids are tartan.

 

Mislabeling the two is the design equivalent of confusing sparkling wine with Champagne. This is one of those design distinctions that may seem minor at first glance. But once you know the difference, you can’t unsee it. 

 

And don’t you think tartan deserves some respect? It’s not just a cozy winter pattern gracing your winter scarves and overcoats. It’s a cultural cornerstone that spans rebellions, aristocracies, prep schools, punk rock bands, and yes, even interior design schemes.

 

It’s time for another session of Design History 101. 

 

Tartan vs. Plaid: Spotting the Difference

At first glance, tartan and plaid appear to be close siblings, but their subtly distinct patterns reveal another story.

What is Tartan? 

Tartan is specific. The pattern’s stripes mirror vertically and horizontally, creating a symmetrical grid of squares known as setts. Traditionally, tartan is woven in a two-over-two twill, forming the illusion of new colors blended from the primary threads. In Scotland, tartans are clan-specific and can be formally registered with the Scottish Register of Tartans, which currently has over 7,000 patterns on record. Tartan is about identity, just as much as it is about aesthetics.

What is Plaid? 

Plaid is general. The term encompasses any checked or crisscrossed fabric where stripes meet at 90-degree angles. Unlike traditional tartans, plaid patterns can be irregular, asymmetrical, and have wide color variations. So your flannel shirt or pleated skirt can be plaid, but unless the stripes repeat symmetrically in both directions, it’s not tartan. 

 

Pattern Pitfalls: Misidentifying Tartan, Gingham, and Other Preppy Fabrics 

The plaid umbrella extends to other preppy fabrics, including gingham and Madras. Both of which get their fair share of mislabeling, too. To clear things up further, gingham is not a pattern. It’s a fabric. What we think of as “gingham checks” is really a simple plaid pattern woven into cotton gingham. Likewise, Madras refers to a lightweight cotton fabric from Chennai, India, typically woven into bright, irregular plaid and checkered patterns.

Mislabeling patterns isn’t the end of the world. However, it does flatten the histories of these story-rich textiles (and create confusion between the client, interior design team, and upholsterer). When we lump everything under the term “plaid,” we overlook the nuances of pattern as well as the centuries-long heritage. 

 

And I think tartan’s story is worth telling.

 

A Quick History of Tartan

Tartan is an ancient textile art. While the pattern is primarily associated with Scottish history, the oldest tartan cloth was found in what is now Xinjiang, China, dating back to 2100 BC. Early tartans emerged across cultures as practical weaves, but it was the Scots who elevated tartan into an emblem of national identity.

 

By the 16th century, tartan had become closely tied to Scottish clans. Each family had its own recognizable pattern, worn proudly in battle or ceremony. Tartan wasn’t just fabric, but a declaration of belonging.

 

This symbolic power made tartan dangerous. Following the Jacobite rising in the 18th century, the British government banned wearing tartan under the Dress Act of 1746, fearing its use as a rallying cry for rebellion. Wearing tartan could result in a fine, jail time, or worse. Imagine being so threatened by a pattern that you outlaw it. It’s proof that design can be a disruptive force. (Which may have something to do with tartan’s adoption by the punk rock community centuries later.) 

 

Of course, you can’t keep a good pattern down. By the 19th century, tartan was revived, thanks in part to Queen Victoria’s love affair with Balmoral Castle and her adoption of Scottish romanticism. Suddenly, tartan wasn’t the garb of rebels but a symbol of aristocracy. The Royals wore it and designers embraced it, shifting the story of an outlawed fabric to the symbol of elite heritage chic.

 

My Own Tartan Tale

I’ll admit it. I’m a sucker for a plaid room. The obsession started in middle school, when I flirted with the preppy aesthetic. I admired every possible tartan skirt, blazer, and bow tie. By high school, I’d defected to New Wave, but the admiration stuck.

 

Today, I still love the timelessness of tartan and plaid. In our Schulle project, one room in particular struck me as “pretty at its finest.” It’s a plaid bedroom, with the pattern layered upon the walls, drapes, bedding, and upholstery for a truly immersive preppy experience. It’s nostalgic and fun, but most importantly, it’s beautiful. 

 

Plaid & Prep Go Together Like Brooks Brothers & Clam Bakes 

Patterns carry cultural shorthand, and tartan may be one of the most powerful. For example, when The Official Preppy Handbook hit shelves in 1980, tartan was splashed across the cover. Why? Because it instantly symbolized everything the book was satirizing: Anglophilia, old-money tradition, and timeless preppy style.

 

The preppy aesthetic, with its Ivy League roots and British sportswear influences, adopted tartan as a uniform of sorts. It whispered (or shouted) of elite boarding schools, country clubs, and holiday parties in Connecticut. The Handbook created a parody of prep, making the style a little more accessible to anyone wanting to participate in that world. 

 

Why Tartan Endures in Interior Design

Tartan interiors feel layered, storied, and smart. They bridge the gap between traditional and modern, British and American, aristocracy and rebellion. They’re never boring, and boring is the real enemy of design. No wonder designers keep returning to tartan. Brands from Ralph Lauren to Vivienne Westwood have built empires on the pattern’s cultural resonance. Tartan is versatile, pretty, and forever chic.

 

At the end of the day, tartan is more than a grid of stripes. It’s a cornerstone pattern that connects design history to contemporary aesthetics. It’s a textile that survived rebellions and reinventions, only to become more iconic with each turn.

 

So the next time you curl up in your tartan blanket or scarf, remember that you’re not just looking at a pattern. 

 

You’re looking at a story woven into wool.