The '70s are happening a second time around, in more ways than one. From flared jeans and platform shoes to geometric prints and oversized sunglasses, the exaggerated silhouettes of the decade have become staples of 21st-century closets.

It should come as no great surprise, then, that even shag carpets, those icons of '70s suburban bad taste, are back in style. The 21st-century shag is more likely to be beige or cream than avocado green. It's likely to be an accent for a hardwood floor and modern furnishings rather than a wall-to-wall monstrosity in a split-level. But it still has the unmistakably shaggy quality that, after all, makes a shag a shag.

Shags are popping up not only in hip design stores but also in mainstream outlets such as Pottery Barn. They are part of the same trend that brought back lava lamps, butterfly chairs and bright primary colors.

For many, the appeal of a shag comes down to one simple fact: It feels good on their feet. "People are coming back to a fluffy, lush feeling. People love to sit on it, love to walk on it," says Brad Boucher, owner of Westwood Carpets in Los Angeles, where shags made of New Zealand wool run about $750 for a 5-by-8 rug and $1,500 for an 8-by-10.

For those who can't afford the high-end product, Urban Outfit-ters has a 6-by-9 chenille shag that retails for $140.

Generation Xers who weren't around for the first Age of Shag don't have bad shag memories. "They just think it's a really cool texture. It's a texture they haven't seen before," says Bill Fleetwood, manager of Aga John Broadloom in Los Angeles.

For older generations, the mere mention of the word "shag" can be enough to elicit a shudder. But the new shags are so different from the old that shag haters often find themselves transformed into shag lovers.

The shag resurgence began several years ago. Shag's close cousin, the flokati -- a rug made of fur-like fibers, often cut in the shape of an animal skin -- has also sold well in recent years. Most of the new shags are made of wool rather than the cheap nylon of years past. They come in varieties unheard of 30 years ago -- fibers as thick as pinkie fingers and so long they flop over like rabbits' ears; fibers of different colors and thicknesses mixed in together; fibers that are wound around an inner core so that they resemble sea anemone tentacles.

There's no need for the oft-derided shag rake, used in the old days to spruce up a tired-looking shag, since wool fibers don't get matted like synthetic ones do. But shag owners will probably need to invest in an extra-strength vacuum cleaner that won't be tripped up by long fibers.

Cindy Chang is a reporter for the Los Angeles Times, a Tribune Publishing newspaper.