Newstalgia is Here, and It’s Gorgeous
There’s a quiet revolution happening in interior design right now. A soulful one. We’re seeing the return of layered richness, textured elegance, and nostalgic detail. Jewel tones have been on the scene for a minute and don’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Deep greens, elaborate wall coverings, brass accents, heirloom-quality wood, antiques that tell a story, and rooms that breathe history into modern life. This isn’t just trend; it’s newstalgia and the “old money” aesthetic reborn for a generation craving substance over flash.

A cozy, jewel-toned dining room wrapped in Schumacher mural wallpaper, crystal chandeliers, a pair of vintage Chinese porcelain vases from HEWN Showroom, and a warm wood table the family can’t help but dine at every night.
It’s no secret why these stories of old continue to reclaim our hearts: craftsmanship, material memory, and emotionally resonant design feel like home. In this time of overwhelm and digital noise, preserving the soul of an object or a building, even as we refresh it, can bring a certain groundedness and deep comfort.

A light-filled living room blending vintage soul and modern comfort, with plum velvet chairs, decorative pillows from Holland & Sherry, layered textures, a chandelier from Vaughan Lighting, and art by Renee Bott that feels like a tapestry.
A Victorian Soul in San Francisco
Take our recently completed San Francisco Victorian Revival, designed for a young family with 3 children. This is a house that doesn’t just look beautiful; it feels like an heirloom. Together with Senior Designer Tiara Fukui, architect Stephen Verner and builder Stephen McCormack, we preserved the home’s original spirit while infusing it with a new, modern vitality. With its restored millwork, bay windows, velvet chairs, brass accents, and curated art that reads like tapestries, it’s a home that tells a layered story. Its voice is Victorian; its soul, present. Its tradition uplifted by new color and fresh elements, ready for our clients’ future stories to unfold in.
One of my favorite things about this family is their unabashed love of bright, joyful color. With daughters who light up at the sight of vibrant hues, it felt only natural to weave that joy into the heart of the home. The formal dining room, often treated as an occasional space in many modern homes, is a nightly gathering place here. The family eats dinner together at that beautiful table every evening, beneath the fabulous Schumacher wallpaper, surrounded by vintage treasures and warmth. The breakfast nook is perfect for long, lingering brunches, and the open flow between kitchen, breakfast area and family room that open into the backyard invites natural interaction while preserving personal space.

A vibrant, family-centered kitchen with cabinetry by Segale Bros. painted in Newburg Green by Benjamin Moore, runner from Stark Carpet, and lighting from Urban Electric that bridges function and warmth.
Why Victorians Have My Heart (and My Netflix Queue)
Full confession: I’ve binged The Gilded Age — not for the gossip or rigid society structure it depicts, but for the architecture, the costumes, and the whisper of history in every frame. And yet, watching historical dramas like this can pull at my heart in complicated ways. While they capture the beauty of the era, they often gloss over the harder truths: stories of race, class, gender, and power that are rarely told from the perspectives of those most impacted. Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States is a reminder that for every gilded ballroom, there were countless lives outside those walls whose stories were equally important, though often erased.

This statement powder room adds floral drama to the Victorian’s main floor with peacock wallpaper by Rifle Paper Co. and vanity by Waterworks.
So I watch with both awe and awareness. The costume designer Kasia Walicka-Maimone explains that her palette was filtered through fine painters like John Singer Sargent, translating heightened beauty into something we still find electric today. And it’s true: seeing a plum velvet gown, a soaring staircase, or the patina of brass under soft light feels like a love letter to artistry. But part of the beauty, for me, is in holding both truths at once: appreciating the craft, while not forgetting the cost at which it came.
This Love Affair Isn’t Just Mine
It’s showing up in our youth, too. My daughter Jett has a Victorian cowgirl kind of vibe: lace and fringe meet emerald velvet and a touch of grit. Her favorite treasure is a curved, ornate settee in deep emerald green velvet, gifted to her by one of my clients (thank you, Caroline). It looks like it came straight from my great-grandmother’s Victorian in Seattle.
Jett and her friends want the old homes left with their character intact. They bemoan the stripped-down shell of her first college home, an old beauty in historic San Luis Obispo renovated by a landlord who cared more about profit than preservation. Too bad, so sad. To them, and to me, every time original woodwork, vintage fixtures, or intricate details are erased, something human is lost.

The mudroom serves as a warm welcome and a storage dream, with runner by Stark Carpet, cabinets by Segale Bros. in Raindance by Benjamin Moore, and art by Diane Williams via Sloan Miyasato.
What this means for our homes, and yours, is that design should live on. Modern living demands flexibility, but our souls ache for stability. Classic design, when reimagined with intention, gives us both. A vintage pendant over the kitchen island isn’t just a light; it’s an encounter, a moment that can stop you in your tracks. Beauty, to me, is never about perfection. It shouldn’t shine so polished that it loses its humanity. It should hold fingerprints, memory, and warmth. And when it does, it carries personal echoes, It makes a home more than just a place to live. It makes it a living story.
Let’s create spaces that are soulful, not just styled. Because old is new again, and we’re finally ready to listen.
See the entire project in our portfolio, here.
Written by Laura Martin Bovard. Photos by Eric Rorer.

