When I first moved to Northamptonshire we rented a two bedroom 1980’s maisonette with paper walls so thin you could hear the washing machine two doors down. After six months we moved to a new-build flat with a shiny kitchen and laminate flooring. I liked modern living with freshly plastered walls, double glazing and insulation. We lived there over the winter and I don’t ever remember being cold. Let me just adjust my rose-tinted glasses…

However when it came to buying our first home we were both set on an older property. I’m pretty sure we viewed every single terrace house Northamptonshire had on sale; we felt they offered us more space, more features and more flexibility than a new-build. Unfortunately we could never find the right one for us and ended our search buying a newish build on the plot of an old shoe factory. James loved the double drive, I loved the sun drenched garden and we had a love-hate relationship with the teeny-weeny modern interior. I longed for a feature fireplace, a wonky character wall and maybe a beam or two.

Writing this post now I realise it’s near enough exactly four years ago since we first viewed the cottage we call home. It was a short yet painful search viewing lots of village properties during the depths of the recession. We were both adamant we would move into a period home and were delighted when we found a cottage for sale in our current village.

Anyone with a ‘character’ property will tell you, winters can be a bit brutal. Energy efficiency isn’t really their strong point. At my house, the doors don’t fit neatly in their frames and so draughts are pretty standard. As beautiful as slate and quarry tiles are they make for icy feet. The first year we lived here the heating turned itself off every twenty minutes so we got used to wearing hats indoors. Don’t get me wrong, I love my house. The previous owners renovated it beautifully and I love the quirks and foibles and getting a carpet in the lounge has changed my life. Seriously.

Well what is the point of me rabbling on? A conversation with a good friend of mine prompted me to write this post, as did a chat we all had round Charlotte’s kitchen table a few weeks back. There’s a bit of consensus when it comes to houses you are usually in ‘camp new’ or ‘camp old’. A sweeping statement I know and many houses don’t really sit in either camp, oh hello 1960’s houses.

My friend is considering leaving his stunning double-fronted, high ceilinged victorian mansion (okay mansion is an exaggeration but it’s a rather large house) to buy a brand spanking new-build. Ten years ago he claimed he’d never go ‘new,’ but he’s tired of the maintenance, the expense and the time to keep the house in tip-top condition and with two little ones his priorities have changed. For me, I’m not quite sure I could ever imagine leaving behind my stripped doors and uneven floors but I don’t begrudge him at all. Up until recently a new-build meant a white plain box but the houses I was shown the other day have bay windows, real wood floors and are built of reclaimed stone.

What are your thoughts on new versus old houses? Do you sit it one camp or another? Do you think you can still call a new-build a character property? Finally who would like to move in to the house with the pink door? Me too!