There’s a certain kind of designer who builds worlds rather than rooms. One who believes that every tassel, tile, and teacup tells a story. Howard Slatkin is one of them.

Slatkin, the New York-based interior designer and co-founder of the Slatkin & Co. home fragrance brand, is well known for his Fifth Avenue apartment, a modern-day Versailles in the sky. Every doorknob, lampshade, and woven silk panel was designed or hand-selected by him. The space is a study in what happens when unrelenting obsession yields unsurpassed beauty.

As he writes in his book, Fifth Avenue Style, “The desire is to live in comfortable rooms filled with treasures that ultimately represent one’s journey through life.” That sentiment feels almost radical in a design era obsessed with decluttering and minimalism.

So, why don’t we take a page from Howard Slatkin and make a return to old-world design? 

 

A Master of the Collected Interior

With a storied imagination, a collector’s passion, and a devotion to craft, Howard Slatkin has built interiors that celebrate beauty without apology. His Fifth Avenue home, featured in The New York Times and New York Social Diary, is a love letter to decoration for decoration’s sake. He collaborates with decorative painters, upholsterers, plasterers, and weavers to create spaces that are layered, intricate, and deeply personal.

Walking through his apartment feels like entering another time. There’s something cinematic about it, like stepping into a scene from Downton Abbey that’s been transplanted high in the New York skyline.

It’s maximalism at its core. And it raises a question: when did we start thinking that too much beauty was a bad thing? 

 

The Fall of Old World Design (and Why That’s Okay)

Opulence didn’t disappear by accident. It was taxed out of existence.

When income tax was introduced in the early 20th century, America’s ultra-wealthy could no longer bankroll homes on the scale of palaces. The grand country estates and European-inspired mansions of the Gilded Age gave way to Rosario Candela’s luxury high-rise apartments, a smaller, more manageable expression of wealth that birthed a new aesthetic: refinement through restraint.

And truly, this democratization was a good thing. It allowed more people to participate in the beauty and comfort of a well-designed home. But in our rush toward accessibility and efficiency, we lost something along the way. We lost the sense of theater, the joy of living among meaningful things. We lost the old-world charm. 

 

Minimalism and the “New Money” Look

Minimalism once represented purity and progress, a clean break from the stuffy homes of the past. But lately, it’s begun to feel more like a boring branding exercise. The “new money” look, characterized by endless beige, clean lines, and a total lack of personality, has become the default.

Don’t get me wrong: there’s value in editing. But when everything begins to look the same, we risk sanitizing our humanity. The home becomes a showroom rather than a story.

A truly beautiful interior, like Slatkin’s, feels lived in. It’s layered with history, comfort, and contradiction. It invites you to explore, not just admire. And maybe most importantly, it says something about those who live inside. 

 

The Case for Opulence (in Moderation)

I’m not suggesting we all cover our walls in hand-painted silk or install 18th-century chandeliers in the bathroom, though if you want to, go right ahead. 

But there’s a lesson in Slatkin’s approach: one of attention, care, and time.
Why not take a week to find the perfect shade of green for your dining room?
Why not hang the art that makes you smile, even if it doesn’t “match”?
Why not let your home reflect your curiosities rather than a catalog inventory?

When we allow ourselves to collect, layer, and personalize, we create homes that are not only beautiful but meaningful. As I often say, good design is not about good taste. Good taste is boring! Good design is about good stories. 

 

How to Bring the Old World Style Home

You don’t need a Fifth Avenue address (or a palace-sized budget) to channel some Old World charm in your design. These guiding principles, inspired by Slatkin’s philosophy, are enough: 

1. Mix and Match Eras

Old World interiors evolved over generations. Combine heirlooms, antiques, and contemporary pieces. Forget the rules of matching, because contrast creates character.

2. Use Saturated Colors

Depth gives warmth. Don’t be afraid of rich hues that tell a layered story. Trust me, it will feel better than a beige box. 

3. Layer Patterns and Textures

The old homes we romanticize were never perfectly coordinated. Let fabrics, wallpapers, and rugs overlap in unexpected harmony. Life isn’t linear, and your decor shouldn’t be either.

4. Make It Comfortable

The most timeless homes are the ones people actually live in. Old World interiors earned their patina over time. Sofas sag, paint fades, and that’s what makes it human.

5. Celebrate the Objects You Love

Whether it’s a pile of books, a few candles, or multiple lamps on one table, you need to remember that objects are not clutter. They’re evidence of life. A well-loved home is never sterile.

 

The Comfort of the Collected

Howard Slatkin reminds us that design isn’t about chasing trends. It’s about cherishing what you love and surrounding yourself with what makes you comfortable in your home. In a world obsessed with clearing surfaces, he gives us permission to fill every corner. 

Maybe we can’t all build an 18th-century palace on Fifth Avenue. But we can bring that same sense of reverence, curiosity, and craft into our own homes.

And perhaps, like Slatkin, we can learn to dip a toe into the Old World.