Interior designer Katie Harbison is one of Homes & Gardens' new Editors-At-Large for By Design, sharing her thoughts on decor. See the rest of her articles here.
Incorporating vintage and antique pieces into my projects isn’t merely a stylistic preference – it’s a non-negotiable part of my design philosophy. I simply can’t imagine a space without them. Why? Because truly considered interior design isn’t about adhering to a single interior design trend, idea, or era; it’s about the art of layering. A room composed entirely of one aesthetic – whether ultra-modern, mid-century, or period-specific – risks feeling flat, predictable, and overly thematic.
In contrast, the thoughtful integration of pieces with history brings nuance, depth, and authenticity. Vintage elements carry a patina of life: the worn textures of timber, hand-carved details that speak of skill and craft, and the quiet individuality that mass-produced items can never replicate.
A few guiding principles shape how I blend eras. First, don’t get me wrong – I love a beautiful object as much as anyone. Many pieces in our projects serve little functional purpose, existing purely to delight the eye. But beauty alone isn’t enough; intention is just as important. If everything in a room is simply 'nice,' nothing stands out. The joy of mixing old and new lies in allowing each element to perform its role – sometimes to anchor, sometimes to elevate, and sometimes, delightfully, to surprise.
Take something as simple as a plastered wall and a timber floor. On their own, they’re clean, understated, and perfectly pleasant – but they don’t tell a story. Introduce a reclaimed wooden console, rich with character in every grain, and the space transforms instantly. Personality emerges. Your eye is drawn to texture, scale, and craftsmanship. The old gives the new context, and the new allows the old to shine. It’s a quiet dialogue between eras, making the room feel intentional, lived-in, and infinitely more compelling.
Balance in interior design, however, is everything, especially when mixing old and new. A room can only handle so many bold moments before it tips into chaos. Too many antiques, and it risks feeling like your grandmother’s sitting room (not in the curated, charming way you’d hope). A space made entirely of contemporary pieces can feel sterile, just as one overloaded with vintage can feel theatrical. Thoughtful restraint is key. The sweet spot lies in selecting pieces with purpose, giving them room to breathe, and allowing the contrasts to create harmony rather than clutter.
One of my favorite parts of any project is stepping away from the drawings to source the pieces I like to call the 'treasures.' I wish I could say it’s always glamorous, but more often it means early mornings, dusty warehouses, endless market stalls, and a lot of rummaging. And yet, there’s nothing quite like the thrill of the hunt – the moment you spot something extraordinary hidden among a sea of forgotten objects is pure euphoria. It’s addictive, like uncovering a tiny fragment of history waiting for the right home.
Of course, the sheer volume of objects out there can feel overwhelming. Antiques markets and salvage yards are brimming with items of all ages, patinas, and charm.
The key is to prioritise quality and craftsmanship above all else. Age alone doesn’t confer value – integrity does. I approach vintage sourcing with the same rigour I bring to contemporary or bespoke pieces: quality signals intention. A well-made item, whether it’s a century-old chair or a newly commissioned console, carries a presence that elevates a room.
Mixing old and new isn’t about pitting eras against each other; it’s about curating the best of both worlds. Good design stands on its own, regardless of when it was created.
At the end of the day, blending old and new isn’t about rules – it’s about intuition. It’s trusting your eye enough to let pieces from different times converse with one another. When done thoughtfully, the result never feels themed or forced. It feels layered, lived-in, and full of stories – a home that didn’t come together overnight, but evolved over time, exactly as the very best interiors do.
