The Interiors Edit: The 5 biggest learnings from a period renovation
What you need to know, from someone who’s been through the process.
Renovating a period home is not just a design project. It is a long game of logistics, patience, budgets, compromises and personal resilience. I have heard many designer and architect peers admit that their own home was their most difficult project. This was certainly the case for us.
Three years after purchasing our Georgian house, and after the dust has mostly settled, I feel compelled to do a proper autopsy of the project. Not to dwell on what went wrong, but to share what happens behind the scenes when there is an architect and interior designer working on a full renovation of a protected structure.
Despite the many challenges, it can result in a home that truly works. This is for anyone standing at the beginning of a renovation journey, especially one involving an older property, and wondering how timelines, costs and decisions really unfold. Here are the five biggest learnings from our project.
Budget reality must come before planning, not after
One of the most common mistakes I see is designing or buying a house you cannot afford to build. Architects are not quantity surveyors, and even the most experienced designer cannot accurately price a project without developed drawings, surveys and investigation.
Yet many homeowners, us included, rely on early reassurance that it should be achievable within budget. That reassurance can unravel very quickly once planning conditions, conservation requirements and unknowns inside old walls come into play.
And at the end of the day, no one will protect your budget other than you. It is your responsibility. If I could do it again, I would push hard for a rough QS cost before committing to planning, ideally during the purchase process. Yes, this is unconventional and requires upfront legwork, but it can save years of redesign, sunk fees and emotional exhaustion.
In today’s climate, with renovation costs exceeding €3,000 per square metre for older homes, relying on an architect’s early opinion and a visual survey is simply not a strategy.
Size is the silent budget killer
Bigger is not better, especially in period homes. Extensions, excavations and reconfigurations compound costs at an alarming rate. What looks like just another ten square metres on a drawing can translate into tens of thousands once steel, groundworks, glazing, finishes and professional fees are accounted for. Add VAT, 23% on professional fees and many products, and 13.5% on construction, and the numbers escalate quickly.
Our biggest breakthrough came when we practically removed our extension from the project and instead reconfigured the existing footprint. What was once planned as a major excavation became a modest half metre extension in two directions, just enough to allow circulation in a dining room.
Yes, we accepted compromises. More stairs between spaces and more multifunctional rooms. But we gained something far more valuable, a house we could actually finish properly. One where the dining room gets beautiful light, where the kitchen works hard for everyday life, and where the money went into craftsmanship rather than square metres.
If your budget is tight, reduce size first, not finishes. A smaller home with thoughtful detailing will always feel better than a larger under-finished one.
Interior design is not the final layer, it is the framework
For me, this was primarily an interiors project. By the end, the extension was minimal and only two new rooms were being partitioned. Every architectural move was informed by what we wanted to put in those rooms, not the other way around. Our dining table dictated the proportions of the space. Our kitchen layout shaped the flow between rooms.
Interior design decisions should not happen at the end, when walls are already built and budgets exhausted. They should inform the architecture and the budget from day one.
Kitchen layouts, bathroom sizes, joinery depths, panelling and lighting positions all have structural implications. If they are not considered early, you either lose the design you want or pay to retrofit it later. Developing interiors alongside architectural drawings allows for realistic PC sums, better trade offs and fewer shocks at tender stage.
It also gives you control. Maybe you sacrifice an oversized picture window so you can afford the timber kitchen that defines how you actually live. Interior design is not cushions and paint colours. It is about how a house works and feels.
Conservation best practice must be balanced with lived reality
Not every conservation best practice decision is financially viable. We stripped most of our house back to brick, removed dry lining and replastered in lime throughout. It was expensive, slow and deeply disruptive.
While some elements, like cornice repair, were absolutely worth it and brought the house back to life, others drained budget and energy that could have been better spent elsewhere.
Here is the key distinction I learned: you are not obligated to undo every historic mistake in a period house. You are required not to make it worse. Choose conservation interventions strategically. Protect what is visible, meaningful and vulnerable. Focus on keeping the house warm and breathable, but be careful of slowly edging towards a gut job that snowballs beyond your budget and capacity.
The final 20% is the hardest
Everyone talks about the stress of starting a renovation. Very few talk about the toll of the ending. Snagging nearly broke us. Moving in before the house was truly finished meant months of trades on site, unfinished bathrooms, unresolved issues and constant disruption, while trying to live a normal family life.
Some works that should never have been classified as snags were deferred too late, making them far harder to resolve once we were living in the house. If I could offer one piece of hard earned advice, it is to protect the final phase fiercely. Delay moving in if you can. Push for proper sequencing. Allow time and budget for things to be done well, not just done.
At the same time, understand that some snags can only be uncovered by living in a house and seeing what breaks, leaks or does not quite work in daily life. A house should feel like a reward at the end of a renovation, not another project you are managing.
Period renovations are not linear. They test your patience, your relationships and your decision making. But they can also be deeply rewarding if approached with realism, flexibility and the right team. Front load interior decisions before committing to the size of an extension or placing a window order.
Question assumptions. Get second opinions. Guard your budget. Choose quality over quantity. And remember, the goal is not perfection. It is a home that supports your life. Sometimes that happens over stages. And sometimes that is exactly as it should be.
If you are renovating, I am cheering you on. And if you are still in the early stages, I hope these lessons help you avoid some of the mistakes I had to learn the hard way.
So here’s to designing your home inside-out. From how you want your breakfasts to feel, how cosy nights in look, and how moving around the space works for you. That is how a successful renovation should be defined.







