5 Things I Absolutely Love About Living in a 134-Year-Old Home

When I bought a house in my dream Washington, D.C., neighborhood, the house-hunting options were basically Victorian, Victorian, or Victorian. Nearly every rowhouse is some variation on Victorian architecture, which spanned the enormous time frame of 1837 to 1901. In the cities where Victorian-style home architecture took off, it doesn’t matter whether a home is Italianate, Second Empire, Gothic Revival, Romanesque, or another more nuanced style — they all fall under the broader Victorian umbrella. 

And, as someone whose dream home is a Federal- or Georgian-style home (both of which do appear more sparingly in my neighborhood — but at a price point that I’m still trying to make sense of), I had to accept that a Queen Anne Victorian is my architectural lot in life for now.

But over the past year, the house has surprised me. I bought it for the location and the design potential, but it’s the Victorian quirks that have won me over. These houses have their pros and cons, and my neighbors and I basically have a support group as we navigate renovations, hiccups, permits, and everything in between.

If you’re going into a Victorian home search, here’s what I’ve come to appreciate (and a few things I wish were different).

Open floor plans had their heyday, but as more people move back towards wanting distinct rooms, Victorian homes are getting the last laugh. Victorian architecture loved a highly specialized room, whether that’s a parlor in addition to a living room, a tiny nursery, or a formal dining room. 

When we bought our house, all of the rooms were still there, and I promised I wouldn’t take down a single wall. A year later, I can report that not only do I love living with the rooms, but it also makes it easier to decorate — I’m not worrying about how to make a giant bowling alley of a living-dining room feel cohesive. 

After years of apartment then condo living, I wanted to live someplace that had multiple stories. And a Victorian house can certainly deliver on that. Whether you have a rowhouse, like I do, or a single family home, Victorian houses tend to have at least two, but more likely three and even four, stories. 

We have a garden level plus three stories, and two days into living in our house, my phone informed me I was climbing more stairs than usual. I hate when I realize I’ve left my sunglasses in the third-floor bedroom when I’m already down the front steps at street level, but it’s a small price to pay for the added square footage of building up. 

This could be said of most styles of houses that are still standing from previous centuries, but these homes were built to last. Hardwood floors, solid wood doors, and cast iron radiators are all features that would up the price on a new build today — and I’m not sure the quality would ever match.

Our contractor told us that if we were to replace our original wood sash windows, which have lasted over 130 years, we’d never get the same longevity out of modern wood sash windows (wood being what our historic district requires and enthusiastically enforces). 

Victorian homes nearly always have high ceilings and big windows. They wanted to impress with their grand entrances and living spaces, and these are still features that people gravitate towards today. 

Even when the rooms are smaller, those high ceilings make the space soar. Our kitchen may be small compared to most modern kitchens, but the tall ceilings make it feel light and airy. 

When I look at a Victorian home, my first question is how on earth they came up with the ornate facades and interiors. Did they just keep tacking on little alcoves and nooks? Did they take any potential straight line and add a few cut-outs just for fun? 

Whatever their reasoning was, I absolutely love it. The more nooks you have, the more room you have for sitting areas. I didn’t necessarily realize I needed a small sofa in an alcove in my dining room or a comfy chair and footstool in my bedroom, but, now that the spaces are there, they’re a few of my favorite features.

Similar to the nooks and alcoves, Victorians loved adding in bay windows. Again, these are a great opportunity for a little seating moment, and I’ve taken advantage of every single one. 

A Victorian without maximalist details like rosette trim, crown molding, transom windows, and pocket doors wouldn’t be a Victorian at all. They loved their interiors to be just as ornate as the exteriors, and I love that the house basically decorates itself. All it needs is a little freshening up with paint, and the decor job is already done. 

If you’re lucky, a Victorian house could have original hardwood floors and wavy glass in the windows. We have original heart pine floors that have seen better days, but I’ve been told that when I’m ready to leave behind their orange stain, they still have another refinish or two left in them. The wavy glass only appears in about half of the windows at this point, but I’m treating it with kid gloves, hoping it’ll last another 130 years.

If we ever get to the point of deciding to replace a window — or even a storm window — we’re faced with the reality that nothing in the home is standard or symmetrical. Some old homes seem to follow roughly similar sizing, but the Victorians just went totally rogue. You might find a few houses designed by the same architect that have similarities but, otherwise, it was the wild west of home building. 

As much as I love all the nooks, they can also make furniture placement nearly impossible. Trying to fit the dining room table while still allowing room for access to the two alcoves in the space and figuring out how to put down a standard-size rug was a Herculean task. And I had to use every square inch of the one long bedroom wall to fit a king bed plus two nightstands. 

Even where there’s square footage, Victorian architecture doesn’t always leave much space for modern-day furniture.

This is more true in Victorian rowhouses than the sprawling Queen Anne Victorians that you see on the outskirts of 19th-century downtown areas, but I’ve struggled with just how narrow my home is. 

We had to bring our kitchen appliances in through a window because they wouldn’t fit through the narrow stairwell (the kitchen is on the second floor). 

Getting the king bed up to the third floor involved an hour of trying to persuade the delivery service to take the posts off the headboard before doing it ourselves. And every time I have to carry a suitcase from my bedroom to the first floor, I fully expect I’ll have to bring out the touch-up paint the next day.

This isn’t always the case — except for the bathrooms, our rooms are spacious and the larger single family home Victorians tend to have grand spaces — but in most Victorian rowhouses, the tradeoff for many rooms is small rooms. 

And that means deciding what you prioritize — the separation of spaces or the modern, large, open rooms we’re used to in 2024.