17 Old House Features That Should Have Never Gone Out of Style (2024)

Shutters might be the single most practical house feature ever created, and yet we rarely see functioning shutters on newer homes. Interior shutters provide a zero-energy solution for helping to cool your house—they can be easily closed when rooms are not in use, or on especially hot and sunny days. In terms of privacy, shutters provide a streamlined, charming alternative to blinds.

I know, I know: It's just a doorknob. But what old house owner hasn't spent hours rummaging through flea market bins looking for the perfect glass knob for the bathroom door? It's the details that make old houses stand out from the cookie-cutter crowd.

Let me guess: You never know where you put your phone. That is, of course, unless you live in a house with a telephone nook. Found commonly in homes built when telephones were newer and significantly larger devices, these special little shelves could easily be repurposed to hold your cell phone dock.

You probably don't have a butler, but I'm willing to bet you still like to entertain. Butlers' pantries historically sat between the kitchen and dining room and were used as a place to stage food during fancy gatherings. If you're lucky enough to have landed an old house with a butler's pantry, you'll find yourself blessed with incredible storage space and plenty of room to show off your vintage china or milk glass collection.

Transoms above doors (both interior and exterior) aren't just beautiful; they're also practical. When left open, they allow rising hot air to circulate, thus cooling the home efficiently and inexpensively.

As the mother of both a toddler and a very rambunctious beagle, I'm grateful for the opportunity to open just the top half of my Dutch door on breezy fall days. My son and dog stay inside, and the leaves stay outside; the only thing that's allowed through is the fresh breeze itself.

What's more luxurious than sleeping with the windows open? Sleeping on the porch! Naturally, sleeping porches are most commonly found in old houses in the South, necessitated by hot and humid summers in the days before air conditioning.

Before we could pour glass into large sheets, we had to attach smaller panes together using wood or lead. It was a practical solution with a beautiful effect. From the fanlights above the doors on Federal-era homes to the rich, stained-glass windows on Gothic and Queen-Anne style houses, to the leaded glass windows on Tudor Revival homes, American windows throughout history have been nothing short of works of art.

Have you ever wondered why the features in old houses seem to age so gracefully? Before the machine age, we built things by hand, using local materials. Nails were hand-forged by a blacksmith; wood was cut from local trees. In most cases, the elements in each house were custom-made for that particular house. Stock cabinetry just won't age with a house in the same way.

Nothing kills curb appeal more than a gigantic garage placed front and center. Wouldn't you rather your guests see your wide front porch, or the gardens you've worked hard on all summer? Many old houses were built before cars became the primarily method of transportation, and the earliest garages were placed behind the house, not attached to the side.

A floor isn't just something you walk on, and a ceiling isn't just a roof over your head. Way back when—especially during the Victorian era—they knew a thing or two about adding an extra splash up above and down below. Whether decorated with colorful tiles, wood laid in a herringbone pattern, or deep coffers, the floors and ceilings on many old houses make quite a statement.

As a child raised in a very old house, I relished the "secret" nooks and crannies that nurtured my creativity and no doubt contributed to my wild imagination. Besides, who wants to decorate the same square room over and over again throughout the house? Slanted walls and oddly-shaped doors make for the most interesting design decisions.

I've never quite understood the American stigma against clotheslines; tourists in Europe always take pictures of clotheslines hanging between quaint, old-world streets. Personally, I love the smell of freshly hung sheets, and think clotheslines should be as popular as the conventional dryers we pay an arm and leg to supply every year with energy.

Woodworkers of yesteryear roll in their graves every time an American buys a bookshelf from IKEA. Besides, that bookshelf is just never the correct height, is it? The built-ins in older homes were constructed right along with the house, so they blend in seamlessly with the structure itself.

Open floors plans are all well and good, but do you really want your dinner guests staring at your messy kitchen? I cringe every time a new homeowner destroys the individual, cozy rooms that are so characteristic of older homes. Historically, each room tended to have a very particular use, so it was advantageous to keep them separate. There was a practical element to this, too: The ability to close doors between rooms also helped heat and cool the home—no sense wasting energy in rooms weren't being used.

That said, there IS something nice about larger rooms, especially when entertaining a crowd. Presto! Pocket doors are an elegant way to create an open floor plan when you need it, and separate rooms when you don't.

Today, one might find the same contemporary house style in Georgia and in Maine. But there's a reason why old Southern homes have deep front porches with ceiling fans, and homes in the north tend to have steeply pitched or gambrel roofs. Before house styles could be purchased out of a catalogue, we built them—using locally available materials—to withstand and take advantage of the particular climate in which they sat. This has contributed to the variation in architectural styles that makes our country's domestic architecture so interesting.