In a world where everything updates by the week, from your wardrobe to your algorithm, there’s something strangely comforting about a chair that’s older than your parents. Seriously.
While TikTok serves us endless trends on a silver platter, coastal grandma today, brutalism tomorrow. I keep going back to the same thought: there’s real magic in the old stuff. The kind that creaks when you sit on it. The kind with nicks and scratches that tell stories. The type that somehow feels more real than anything brand new.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the vintage furniture my family has passed down over the years. Some pieces feel timeless, clean, solid, unfussy. Others are wildly baroque, the kind of furniture that looks like it belongs in an Andalusian palace, not a flat in Cadiz. But whether they blend in or stand out, they’ve all survived decades of life, moves, makeovers, and shifting tastes.
When I Thought “New” Meant “Better”
I wasn’t always like this. When I was studying architecture, I would often look at my grandma’s living room and think, 'How much better would this place look with a new TV stand from IKEA?' One click, a fresh look, done. At the time, a piece of furniture’s style mattered more to me than its story. If it didn’t match the latest Pinterest board, it felt outdated.
Looking back, I was missing the point.
I thought value was about appearance, not about longevity, and I honestly believed that replacing something old with something new, just because it was cheap and trendy, was the smart choice.
The Shift: From “Trendy” to “Timeless”
But over the years, as my relationship with design deepened. I started noticing details. How a vintage chair, even if it didn’t scream “2025,” was better built than anything you could buy off a shelf. How the furniture in my grandma’s living room didn’t just fill the space. It shaped it.
Some of her pieces were brought in during post-war Spain, and still carry that era’s resilience and beauty. Sitting in that room now feels like time travel, in the best way. It’s a reminder that furniture doesn’t need to be trendy to be powerful.
The Quiet Rebellion Against Consumerism
The older I get, the more I realize: these hand-me-downs are more than just furniture. They’re family history. They’re proof that design isn’t always about reinvention: it can also be about preservation.
My family could’ve replaced them. They had every excuse to upgrade. But they didn’t. And that decision, whether intentional or not, became a small act of rebellion against constant consumption. It taught me that patience, care, and quality matter more than fast makeovers. We live in a world that always makes us want new things. But sometimes, the best things are the ones that have been cared for over time, not just wrapped up in fancy packaging.
Why Vintage Still Wins
Today, I look for design that lasts. That’s thoughtful, sturdy, a little worn, and full of heart. Because the truth is, vintage furniture isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about meaning. It’s about choosing objects that have lived, and letting them keep living with you. So yes, I still love a good trend scroll. But I’ve also learned that slower is better. And that quality? It’s rarely found in fast fashion or fast furniture.
How to Add Vintage Charm to Your Space
If you’re ready to mix a little nostalgia into your home, here’s how to get started (without making your living room feel like a dusty museum):
Start Small
Look for one standout piece, like a mid-century side table or a retro lamp, to anchor a room.
Mix Eras, Not Just Styles
Don’t be afraid to mix old with new. A ’70s velvet armchair paired with a modern print? Absolutely yes. (Coming soon: a project I’m working on with Michaelis Boyd at Penhaligon’s on Regent Street, where I combined an old whispering chair with a trendy tiger cedar fabric.)
Focus on Craftsmanship
Look for solid wood, joints that hold, and details that feel thoughtful. Scratches and wear? They just add personality.
Add Personal Layers
Dress vintage with your story: books, textiles, art... or even that faded concert poster on the wall, or your old record player spinning at 33⅓ RPM. Slow, steady, and full of feeling, because design, like music, is all about the mood.
Don’t Chase Perfection
Sometimes what makes a vintage piece beautiful is its flaws. That little crack? It’s part of the charm. After all, just like in chess, it’s not about having all the perfect pieces. It’s about how you play the board you’ve built.
Where to Find Vintage Furniture in London
- Alfie's Antique Market (Marylebone): A multi-floor maze of vintage dreams, from deco to retro.
- Sunbury Antiques Market (Kempton Park): Massive, iconic, and totally worth the early wake-up.
- Retrouvius (Kensal Green): Chic, curated salvage for those who want vintage with edge.
- The Peanut Vendor (Hackney): Mid-century modern heaven.
- Chatsworth Road & Broadway Market (weekends): Flea market energy with surprise gems.
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Golborne Road (near Portobello Market): A treasure trove of vintage shops and antiques stalls,plus, one of my favourite places for a laid-back brunch while you browse.
- Curiouz: it's not a marketplace, but it's a movement that values vintage, up-cycled, and eco-conscious pieces over mass production, authenticity over fast trends, and sustainable impact without sacrificing style.
- Oculus: An inspiring feed of beautifully sourced pieces and one-offs, perfect if you want something with soul and style.
Conclusion
Because in the end, vintage isn’t just about what you buy, it’s about slowing down, choosing carefully, and living with things that mean something. Not everything old is worth keeping, but when you find the right piece, you’ll know. It just fits.
