We’re living in a moment where design trends cycle faster than ever before. A scroll through Instagram reveals what’s “in” one week — rounded archways, Millennial pink, fluted panels — is quickly replaced by something completely different. This constant churn isn’t just exhausting; it’s environmentally devastating and increases excessive consumption.
As someone who has spent years studying what makes design endure across centuries, I’ve developed a countercultural approach. I design spaces meant to feel as relevant in fifty years as they do today. This isn’t about creating boring, beige rooms. It’s about understanding the difference between timeless design and trendy design, and why that distinction might be the most important sustainability decision you’ll make for your home. I’ve always believed that homes should feel collected rather than decorated, built thoughtfully over time instead of assembled to match a single moment.
The True Cost of Trendy Design
When we bought our Manasquan, NJ shore home in 2018, the previous owners had completely rebuilt the structure from its 1950s foundation just four years earlier. Everything was still relatively new. As a proponent of sustainable design, I couldn’t justify ripping everything out just to put my aesthetic stamp on the space. Instead, I had to get creative about how to make my imprint while respecting what was already there.
This wasn’t just about sustainability, though that mattered enormously. It was recognizing that the constant cycle of renovation driven by shifting aesthetic preferences is environmentally costly in ways we don’t always calculate. Every time we gut a perfectly functional kitchen because the cabinet style feels dated, we’re generating massive waste, consuming substantial resources, and perpetuating a cycle that treats homes like disposable fashion.
Distinguishing Timeless from Dated
How do you tell the difference between timeless design and design that will feel frozen in time? My first criterion: anything that is too thoroughly aligned with a specific cultural moment will pass quickly.
Millennial pink offers a perfect case study. It’s actually a lovely color: soft, sophisticated, warm. But it became so definitively tied to one specific moment in the early 21st century that it’s now essentially verboten for adult spaces. Maybe a child’s room? Perhaps inside a closet? But that dusty rose in your living room is dating your space faster than you think.
The flip side proves equally instructive: anything from the very far decorative past lends itself to longevity because these elements have already proven their staying power. Art Deco influences are everywhere right now. Think clean lines, curves, and plaster influences in decorative lighting. They’ve been around for a century, yet they remain fresh because the stylistic predecessor continues to repeat throughout design history.
My art history background has been invaluable in developing an eye for this distinction. I’ve studied so much art and design across centuries that it’s become part of a reference bible I carry in my mind. My years working with firms like Tom Scheerer Inc. strengthened that foundation even further, giving me daily exposure to interiors built on enduring design principles. When I consider a design element, I’m seeing echoes of Josef Hoffmann’s Palais Stoclet interiors from 1905, which could easily be mistaken for something designed today. That’s the kind of longevity we should be aiming for.
The Art of Strategic Investment
In our Manasquan project, I identified where to invest for longevity: architecture, custom millwork, and quality materials that would age gracefully. The Chesneys fireplace surround transformed our living room, providing architectural gravitas that will remain relevant as décor evolves. The terrazzo oval table I commissioned from artisan Robert Sukrachand (crafted from one entire piece and requiring four people to install) anchors our dining area with permanent elegance. The steel doors from Atelier Domingue weren’t just functional improvements; they’re design statements rooted in industrial architectural heritage that transcends trend cycles. I also rely on heritage makers and long-standing artisans whose work has proven its longevity well beyond any design trend.
In terms of investment strategy and how it applies to contractors and tradespeople, I always recommend bidding projects to at least three different contractors. Too often, homeowners want to “save” money by going with the lowest bidder. But the lowest bidder has often “missed” something in the bid drawings, and what seemed “affordable” ends up substantially higher once change orders start accumulating. The middle ground is the best sweet spot for project pricing.
This principle extends to material choices. Solid wood flooring versus engineered? The initial cost of solid materials will likely be higher, but I always prefer to install something that doesn’t mind showing its age. Engineered wood flooring can only be refinished a few times before the wear layer is gone. That’s planned obsolescence built right in. Solid materials age gracefully and can be refinished indefinitely. Choosing enduring materials also offers long-term financial ROI, reducing the need for costly replacements as trends fade or finishes wear down.
Quality Materials That Improve with Time
I love researching historical materials and using the purest form in all my projects, always with knowledge of contemporary health and wellness practices. I also consider wellness in material selection, favoring natural, minimally processed elements whenever possible. This approach stems from both my art history background and my commitment to sustainability.
Materials that patina naturally are my go-tos: unlacquered brass in bathrooms and kitchens that develops a rich finish over time; tiles that show wear and develop character; marble that gains personality through inevitable acid etching. I have to acknowledge I’m not my typical client in this regard. For some reason, most homeowners draw a firm line at acid etching on marble countertops.
In our Junior Suite bathroom addition, I chose Zellige tile, knowing it’s been widely seen in contemporary interiors recently. But here’s why that choice still represents timeless design: Zellige tile harkens back to its 10th–13th century Islamic origins. “Zellige” means “tile” or “polished stone” in Arabic, and is prized for its heritage craftsmanship. Each tile is meant to look unique, celebrating the lack of machine-made uniformity. I believe these tiles will look as wonderfully hand-done and purposeful in fifty years as they do today.
The whitewashed pine walls in our pool house studio, the custom mosaic tile from Ann Sacks, the terrazzo throughout — these materials don’t just survive time, they improve with it. They develop patina, character, story. That’s a fundamentally different relationship to sustainability than checking a box for recycled content.
Beyond Neutrals: Timeless Color and Pattern
People most often misunderstand timeless design: they assume it requires boring, neutral, safe choices. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’m a proponent of what I call “muted maximalism.” Patterns and colors combined in unique ways, but never at full saturation value. I do admire a punchy palette, but that’s not something I naturally gravitate toward. This more subtle approach keeps spaces feeling fresher for longer.
In our guest bedroom at Manasquan, blues and reds create a welcoming space through Quadrille wallpaper combined with Elizabeth Eakins drapery. These aren’t safe neutrals, they’re bold choices that work together because they share consistent principles of scale and temperature. The Primary Bedroom features wallpaper that creates an exercise in relaxation without feeling bland.
My aesthetic philosophy centers on exploring the juncture where explosive maximalist English style meets the strength and calm of architectural form. This often results in pattern deployed in more subtle, calm colorways mixed with strong architectural forms and details. I used to think this was contradictory and would fight it internally. Until I finally relaxed into it. This balance is central to creating rooms with personality that still feel grounded and enduring.
Benjamin Reynaert, the stylist who worked with me on the Manasquan project, described the pool house design as a mix of “Donald Judd and the English Countryside.” That was quite possibly the best compliment I’ve ever been paid.
Custom and Bespoke as Sustainability
Everyone uses the word “intention” these days, and it’s become overused in design discourse. But I still find it’s genuinely the best way to describe working with artisans on bespoke elements. There’s a fundamentally different relationship to objects created specifically for you, for your space.
When one-off pieces are imbued with this kind of intention, they take on greater importance and relevance. They become meaningful in ways that even very beautiful mass-produced items simply can’t match. Because of that emotional investment, they’re much less likely to be discarded when trends shift. These custom pieces often exist entirely outside the world of trends, unable to be dated because of their uniqueness.
The commissioned octopus sconce that artist Adam Wallacavage created for our powder room provides a perfect example. The custom lacquered bookshelves in the office and the terrazzo table that Robert Sukrachand created to our specifications. These pieces aren’t responding to a trend cycle. They’re timeless because they’re utterly specific.
There’s a delicate dance in creating structurally timeless, immovable pieces. For instance, I will never design a fluted panel for a built-in. You’re seeing fluting everywhere in residential design right now. While fluting references Art Deco design, pulling one element out of context and using it repeatedly is the sure-fire way to assign a date to a design feature. The kiss of dated design death.
Instead, I steer clients toward accessories or more affordable items that can be expressive. Weird, contemporary ceramics are a particular love of mine. The sloppy, ill-formed yet gorgeous vases being created by artists working in clay today. Purchasing an artist-made, affordable ceramic piece is never a bad idea.
Living with Timeless Design
A designer’s house is never entirely “done” for a designer. I’m always revising and imagining little tweaks. But there’s a meaningful difference between that kind of organic evolution and the constant renovation cycle driven by trend exhaustion.
When I first started searching for our Manasquan home, I had to balance my desire for a major design project with my husband’s reluctance to take on a complete gut renovation. As it often happens in life, we compromised. And that compromise taught me something valuable: sometimes the most sustainable choice is working thoughtfully with what exists rather than starting from a blank slate.
Throughout the renovation, I tried to find a home for anything that could be reused: donating to Habitat for Humanity or connecting with other homeowners.It’s more than environmental responsibility—it’s respect for the materials, craftsmanship, and original design intent. A timeless home evolves naturally as pieces are collected, not rushed; it grows through thoughtful layers rather than seasonal decoration.
The Elements That Endure
Which elements from our Manasquan house will still feel relevant in fifty years? The Zellige tile, with its hand-crafted irregularity. The custom millwork designed specifically for our space. The steel doors that connect the interior and exterior with timeless industrial elegance. The terrazzo table that required four people to install. The quality of materials throughout, chosen for their ability to patina gracefully.
I chose each with longevity in mind, but not to create a museum piece. I was designing for how we actually live. For sandy feet, for dinner parties, for quiet mornings with coffee.
My advice for anyone embarking on a major renovation: keep kitchens and bathrooms as timeless as possible, designing them with longstanding architectural references and quality materials. These are the spaces that get dated most quickly. Then add personality through accessories and art. Go ahead and experiment with paint colors, which are relatively easy to change as trends pass in and out of style.
Worried about creating a space that lacks personality? Remember that timeless doesn’t mean impersonal. It means considered. It means rooted in principles that have proven themselves over decades or centuries. Choosing quality over novelty, proportion over viral moments, craftsmanship that will age gracefully over convenience.
The Radical Act of Longevity
Designing for longevity is perhaps the most radical act of sustainability available to us. It’s genuinely countercultural in a world whose economic systems profit from constant consumption and planned obsolescence. Choosing timeless design requires patience when everything demands immediate gratification. It requires intention when we’re bombarded with endless options. It requires the confidence to resist what everyone else is doing.
But the rewards — environmental, financial, and aesthetic — are immeasurable. You create spaces that support evolving lifestyles rather than demanding constant updates. You invest in pieces that appreciate in value and meaning rather than depreciate the moment they’re installed. You build a home that feels designed specifically for you, not for this particular moment in design history.
That’s the kind of design I believe in. Design that respects the past and draws on centuries of proven principles. Design that serves the present by supporting how people actually live. Design that considers the future by making choices that will endure. Design that tells a story—not just for now, but for the decades to come. As a Manhattan-based designer working across the Northeast, I approach every project with this same dedication to longevity and thoughtful restraint.
Ready to create a space designed to last decades, not seasons? Contact Laura Krey Design to discuss how we can craft timeless interiors through quality materials, custom elements, and design principles rooted in art history. Let’s build something that lasts.
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