Shut The Front Door

Someone asked me recently, “Is character really worth the gamble?”
And honestly, it depends on what kind of gambler you are.

When it comes to property, character is one of the most dangerous words in the dictionary. It’s romantic. It’s emotional. And it often distracts people from the practical.

Character can mean high ceilings, original coving, or history seeping through the walls. But it can also mean cracked plaster, rising damp, and insulation that dates back to Charles Dickens.

So yes, it’s charming, but it also comes with a price tag that rarely shows up on Daft.ie.

What you’re really buying

When people weigh up a period home versus a new build, they’re not comparing two houses. They’re comparing two lifestyles.

A new build offers convenience: airtight efficiency, low maintenance, predictable running costs. But it also comes with uniformity. You might get the same layout as ten of your neighbours, and the walls could feel a little sterile until you inject your own warmth into it.

A period home, on the other hand, gives you uniqueness, craftsmanship, and a story. But that story often comes with subplots: leaky windows, awkward layouts, and the need for ongoing care.

Owning one is a bit like adopting a classic car. You don’t do it by accident. It needs love, time, and a willingness to keep it running when most people would trade it in.

The hidden price of charm

I’ve walked through period terraces where the fireplaces are older than some could fathom. They’re beautiful, but they’re also costly to keep beautiful.

A 100-year-old property might need more regular upkeep than you think. Heating bills, exterior paintwork, and structural care add up. And that’s before you factor in planning restrictions for protected buildings, which can limit how much you can modernise.

That said, it’s not all bad news. The bones of many older properties are extraordinary. Built to last, with proportions that modern houses rarely match. And if you can live with the quirks, they can be incredibly rewarding.

The myth of perfection

There’s no such thing as a perfect house, just the right balance of trade-offs for you.

If you value peace of mind, lower running costs, and minimal surprises, then a new build will serve you well.

If you value personality, space, and soul, a period home might be worth every headache.

But it’s about being clear-eyed. You can retrofit insulation; you can’t retrofit history. And no amount of exposed brick will make up for a home that constantly stresses you out.

Weathering the elements

For those dreaming of a cottage by the sea, remember this: the closer you are to that stunning view, the more the sea will claim back over time.
Salt in the air, fading paint, rust on railings - it’s all part of the price of proximity.
So if you buy into that lifestyle, accept that maintenance isn’t a problem to solve, it’s a rhythm to manage.

If you’re weighing up character vs convenience, here’s how to think it through

1. Start with your lifestyle, not the listing.
   Write down how you actually live - weekday routines, hobbies, school runs, travel - before you ever look at Daft or MyHome. It’ll tell you what you can really manage.
   

2. Budget for honesty, not optimism.
   With older homes, assume there’ll be a surprise cost every year. With new builds, factor in snag lists, landscaping, and finishing touches that don’t make the brochure.
   

3. Check your dealbreakers early.
   For period homes: damp, insulation, and protected status.
   For new builds: density, parking, and management fees.
   

4. Ask yourself: does this home give me energy or drain it?
   If you’re constantly managing problems, it’s a drain no matter how beautiful. If it quietly supports your life, that’s value.
   

5. Remember, peace of mind has its own ROI.
   The cost of maintenance or compromise is easy to measure. The cost of daily frustration isn’t, but you’ll feel it every day you live there.

My take

Character and convenience aren’t opposites; they’re a negotiation.
It’s not about right or wrong. It’s about what you’re willing to live with, and what gives you peace of mind at the end of the day.

Whether you’re restoring a Victorian terrace or unlocking your new-build front door for the first time, the goal is the same: a home that fits you, not the other way around.

P.S. If you have not already done so check out a podcast I am involved in that discusses things in, around and beyond just business… Season 2 is live.