The 4 Dated Features I Ripped Out of My 129-Year-Old Home
Let me set the record straight: I love old houses. I intentionally bought an 1895 rowhouse after dreaming about it since I was a kid. I ended up specifically with my old home in part because I knew that the price point and location would be like kryptonite to a developer, and I was determined to save its intact walls, original molding, and wavy glass windows. I studied architectural history in college. I wanted an old home, not a new build. This wasn’t the case of someone wanting an old home only to turn it into a new home.
But that doesn’t mean everything needed to stay the same — I’m not trying to live in a period piece. And even though I’m not planning on leaving my home anytime soon, I also had to think about renovating the space to ensure it has strong value moving forward. But don’t expect all-white bathrooms here — the one thing I feel strongly about is maintaining the character and many of the details of the home. But there were some things that simply needed to go. Whether it was due to the condition or the aesthetics, certain pieces were, in my mind, not worth saving. Others, and future buyers, may disagree but, just because something is original, doesn’t mean it is still livable today.
Here are the four things I couldn’t wait to rip out as soon as we moved in (and one thing I’m still excited to renovate).
People love vintage mosaic tile, I know. There is a fervent following. But ours was dingy — so dingy. It was disgusting to the point where I couldn’t imagine it ever feeling clean, and it was cracked and missing in multiple spots.
I couldn’t wait to rip it out and replace it with vintage-inspired tile. I have zero regrets about my shiny new basketweave tile with grout that actually seems to be securely holding in the tile.
Bathroom Fixtures
I get the appeal of vintage bathroom fixtures. I could look at the sink in my bathroom and see where someone might think it’s cool and worth salvaging. But, for me, the idea of getting it back in working condition wasn’t worth the cost. Instead, I was so excited to rip it out and get a new sink, toilet, and tub that felt fresh and sleek. Truly, there’s no better feeling than as if your bathroom doesn’t have 120 years of grime caked into it.
1970s Exterior Paint
Some brick was made to be painted; some brick was not. Our house should not have been painted, but in what I can only assume was the 1970s, somebody had the wise idea to go to town with a Dijon mustard yellow on the brick and an avocado green door. We had to wait until spring to tackle the paint, and I waited impatiently for six long months to wave goodbye to our chipped, peeling, disgusting paint.
In an ideal world, I would have gone back to brick on the exterior, but the quotes to do that were six times the cost of painting, and it’s not guaranteed to look good. There’s also the risk of damage to the tuck-pointing. The paint wasn’t my first choice, but the impact gave me a new understanding of curb appeal.
Radiators
This one is going to be controversial. I know radiator heat has a strong fan base. And I know it works. But, with the exception of a few radiators that have ornate detailing, I hated the way our radiators looked. They took up room, the plaster walls were crumbling behind them, and they had a century’s worth of dust stuck in their grills (along with an impressive amount of the previous owners’ jewelry, clothing, and even a pair of Birkenstocks).
Not to mention, only two of the radiators in the whole house still functioned. We could have replaced them and had the system shored up, but, instead, I was thrilled to bid them adieu and transition to a different heating system.
Fireplace Tile and Mantel
This is one that’s still on the wish list. I see homes throughout my neighborhood that have their original fireplace mantels and tile, and they’re gorgeous. Our fireplace in our basement seems to be original, and it has stunning iron details surrounding the stone hearth. But the living room is another story. The living room fireplace does have old tile and an old mantel, but neither is original.
Both look as if they were added at some point in an attempt to look old, and not only do they miss the mark completely, but we’ve been told they’re 100% not up to code. As soon as the budget is there, I cannot wait to rip those out and replace them with a salvage mantel and a marble hearth.
Further Reading
See How a Stager Used Paint to Transform a 1950s Living Room
We Asked 8 Pro Travelers What They Never Pack in Their Carry-On, and Here’s What They Said
