A Heritage Home For Contemporary Living.
One of our current projects, set in the Sussex countryside, is a home that’s seen several types of domestic use: it began as a family home, then was later extended, converted into a nursing home, extended again, and eventually brought back into residential use.
The current owners inherited not just a house, but a patchwork of eras, each with its own logic, its own footprint, and its own view of what home should be. What we inherited as designers, was a legacy, and a challenge: how do you take a house with so many past lives, and make it feel coherent again, without erasing the story it tells?

THE BRIEF
The brief was to work entirely within the existing footprint, something that could be seen as a constraint, but we saw it as an opportunity. A chance to work with what was already there, to reveal what was good, and correct what had drifted over time to create a heritage home for contemporary living. Researching the history of the property through archives and documents allowed us to understand what was original, and what had been overlaid later.
One of the more visible examples was the windows: large, oversized glazing had been added at one point, which jarred with the rhythm and form of the original architecture. We’re now replacing those with something more in keeping, not to copy the past, but to respect it. This project isn’t about nostalgia. It’s about proportion, balance and cohesion.

THE HOME
The home, in its current form, didn’t function. Parts of it felt disconnected, the circulation was awkward. The side entrance was being used by default, the main front door unused. And despite the generous footprint, whole areas were sitting idle. We decided the most important change we could make was to move the kitchen. Originally tucked to one side, by relocating it to the very heart of the ground floor, everything changed, the flow, its energy and use. Rooms once bypassed were drawn back into daily life, and spaces re-connected. Crucially, it encouraged people to come in through the front door. That seems small, but symbolically it changes the way the house is lived in.
Rather than thinking vertically with zones stacked on top of each other, we focused on layered living across the ground floor. This suits how families really live: overlapping, retreating and re-connecting. It also meant we could keep sight lines low and linked, connecting spaces without relying on open-plan clichés. The views out to the landscape became more meaningful because we weren’t arbitrarily opening walls. We were aligning rooms to what the house already wanted to see.


THE rooms
Every room has its own rhythm. Some have kept their original names even if their functions have changed, like the flower room, now a children’s study, but still affectionately called the flower room. Details like this matter, it’s part of how a home remembers. The challenge with sprawling old houses is that people move in, overwhelmed by their beauty, and assume they’ll just work. But proportion and layout from past centuries often don’t support modern life. Without considered intervention, these houses can become beautiful but static, and admired more than lived in.
From early on, there was trust between us and the client which made it possible to make confident decisions around space planning and aesthetics. That trust allowed us to move quietly, not needing to make grand gestures or justifications. And that’s where I think an interior designer brings a different kind of sensitivity. Not every project needs an architect. In a house like this, the changes weren’t about structural drama, they were about understanding feel and proportion and letting spaces do what they were always meant to.



Sometimes the most respectful thing you can do to a heritage home is nothing at all. That’s not about inaction, it’s about knowing when to stop. There’s always temptation to add, to bolt on a glass box, or “bring in more light.” But that can create more problems than it solves. Here, the most sustainable act was to work with what we already had. No footprint added, no excess, just clarity. And in doing so, the house feels cohesive and rooted and ready for modern family life.



We’d love to hear from you! Please do get in touch to discuss your heritage renovation challenges or visit our website to explore more of our projects.
We look forward to hearing from you and do continue following us to keep up to date with the developments of this Sussex House renovation.
Robert Thake, Founder & Creative Director of Robert London Design
Top 5 Practical Takeaways
for
Designing Heritage Homes For Contemporary Living
1. Start With the Footprint — Not the Floor Plan
Before considering extensions or structural changes, explore how the existing layout can serve a modern lifestyle. Reworking flow and functionality within the original footprint is often the most respectful and sustainable approach.
2. Research the Building’s Story
Dive into the property’s past through historical documents, maps, and archives. Understanding original features, proportions, and past uses will guide more authentic design decisions and help retain a sense of place.
3. Design With Sensitivity, Not Just Style
Don’t just look at what you can change, look at what you can leave alone. Whether it’s reinstating original window proportions or retaining room names like “The Flower Room,” small gestures carry meaning and connection.
4. Rethink Room Hierarchies to Reflect Modern Life
Traditional layouts may not suit contemporary living. Think in layers, not levels, like moving a kitchen to the centre of the home to improve flow and encourage connection. It’s not always about opening things up but using the whole house intentionally.
5. Build Trust Early for Smoother, Smarter Decision-Making
When clients trust your vision from the start, decisions around layout and aesthetics happen more collaboratively and efficiently, allowing for bold but thoughtful changes that balance legacy with lifestyle.