NEXT-DOOR

NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE

When our next-door neighbor of more than 20 years decided to downsize, my wife and I jumped at the opportunity to acquire the classic 1930s red-brick Tudor Revival she and her late husband had called home for nearly four decades.

Beneath its dated exterior was a charming two-story “fairytale house” whose inherent character had gradually been obscured by stark white trim, overgrown landscaping and metal awnings. Our goal was not to reinvent the house, but to reveal what had been there all along—then give it a fresh, 21st-century point of view.

The exterior provided our starting point. Stark white trim was replaced with deep charcoal to complement the original red brick, while dated metal awnings were removed to reveal the home’s wood-paned windows and arched front entrance. Removing the awnings—and later the window screens—also dramatically increased the natural light reaching the interiors.

Inside, the virtually untouched 1935 floor plan proved to be a mixed blessing. Much of the home’s original architectural character remained intact, but the layout reflected how people lived nearly a century ago—most notably, the absence of a primary ensuite. Rather than radically alter the footprint, we strategically reallocated existing space to create both a private primary suite and a separate powder room for guests.

Originally, the front stair hall led through a cased opening into a small vestibule shared by the first-floor primary bedroom and bath. We closed the opening with a built-in bookcase, incorporating the vestibule and existing bath into the primary suite, while a secondary doorway became its new private entrance. An under-stair coat closet was sacrificed for a diminutive powder room, its walls clad entirely in nine-inch antique-mirror tiles to visually expand the space.

At the back of the house, an equally awkward makeshift laundry room occupied a screened porch exposed to Louisiana’s heat and humidity. We enclosed and insulated the space, extended the home’s HVAC system and transformed it into a proper laundry room while retaining its original beaded-board ceiling and interior brick walls. The ceiling was lacquered deep charcoal, while the brick received the same warm glossy white used throughout the house.

Both full bathrooms were gutted to the studs with one important exception: their original black-and-white hexagonal stone floors. Too timeless to replace, they became the foundation for otherwise completely redesigned rooms with floor-to-ceiling white subway tile, newly milled cabinetry, plumbing fixtures and hardware.

The kitchen was similarly stripped back and reworked with ebony-stained hardwood floors, Zellige tile and stone countertops. Existing upper cabinetry was extended to the ceiling, eliminating an awkward soffit while visually increasing the room’s height.

Elsewhere, we were fortunate to inherit original white-oak floors that had been buried beneath decades of orange-toned stain. Sanding them back to the virgin wood revealed the pale oak beneath, which we preserved with a matte clear finish.

Throughout the interiors, soft white and deep charcoal became the predominant palette, often rendered in high lacquer. Existing openings between the living room, dining room, kitchen and stair hall were rebuilt taller to exaggerate the ceiling heights and create a greater sense of openness. New wall molding introduced a layer of classical formality to the living and dining rooms, detailed to suggest it might have been original to the house all along.

Perhaps the most dramatic transformation occurred in what had been one of the home’s least distinguished spaces—a dinky little office adjoining the sunroom. Stripped to the studs, the room was rebuilt with recessed-paneled walls enveloped in high-gloss charcoal lacquer, transforming a forgettable leftover space into one of the most stately rooms in the house.

Against this refined architectural backdrop, we took the decoration in an intentionally unexpected direction—one we loosely describe as Scandinavian modern. Painted European antique case goods mingle with modern upholstery and bespoke console and cocktail tables, creating a collected interior that complements rather than competes with the architecture. Dated lighting was replaced with a curated mix of predominantly modern, bespoke fixtures, supplemented by discreet, small-scale recessed lighting that gives the rooms an almost gallery-like quality.

That approach provided the perfect setting for an eclectic collection of original mixed-media artwork, whose youthful energy offers a deliberate counterpoint to the home’s traditional architecture.

Ultimately, our intention was never to make this 1935 Tudor something it wasn’t. Instead, we edited away decades of distractions, preserved what was worth preserving and introduced just enough architectural formality and modern tension to allow the house to feel relevant again. What emerged is lighter, younger and decidedly more contemporary—but still unmistakably the charming “fairytale house” we had admired next door for more than two decades.