Those "embarrassing" living room staples you grew up with—the brass fixtures, floral sofas, and wood paneling your parents loved—are now being featured in million-dollar homes by top designers who call them sophisticated.
Growing up, I spent years rolling my eyes at my parents' living room choices. You know the type - those "practical" decisions that screamed middle-class sensibility over style.
My friends from wealthier families had minimalist spaces with carefully curated art, while our living room looked like a Greatest Hits collection of suburban furniture store sales.
Fast forward to last month when I'm scrolling through Architectural Digest, and what do I see? Designer Kelly Wearstler showcasing a client's home with the exact same type of wood paneling my parents had in our basement rec room. The same paneling I begged them to rip out when I was sixteen.
That got me thinking. How many other things did I dismiss as hopelessly uncool that are actually having their moment right now? Turns out, quite a few.
After diving into design blogs and talking to a friend who works in interior design, I discovered that some of the most "embarrassing" elements from my childhood home are now commanding serious prices at vintage stores.
Here are eight living room items I completely misjudged, and why designers are bringing them back.
1. Brass and gold fixtures everywhere
Remember when everything had to be brushed nickel or chrome? I spent my twenties convinced that any hint of brass meant you were stuck in 1987. My parents had brass lamp bases, picture frames, even brass corners on their glass coffee table. I thought it all looked dated and cheap.
Now? Designers are calling warm metals the key to creating depth and richness in a room. That same brass I associated with outdated taste is being mixed with marble and velvet in million-dollar homes. The trick, apparently, is that it was never actually tacky - we just went through a collective phase where cool metals dominated everything.
I recently bought a brass floor lamp for my Austin bungalow. It cost three times what my parents probably paid for their entire brass collection at Tuesday Morning back in the day.
2. Wall-to-wall carpeting in unexpected colors
My childhood best friend's living room had forest green wall-to-wall carpeting. Not sage, not olive - forest green. I remember thinking it was the definition of trying too hard to be different while still playing it safe. Give me hardwood floors or give me death, right?
Wrong. Colored carpeting is having a massive resurgence, particularly in jewel tones. Design studios are installing emerald, sapphire, and yes, forest green carpets in high-end homes. The difference? They're calling it "bold" and "grounding" now.
The psychological comfort of carpet - that soft landing for kids playing, that warmth under bare feet during movie nights - never actually went away. We just convinced ourselves that exposed floors were more sophisticated.
3. Gallery walls of family photos
Growing up, our living room wall was a shrine to every school photo, vacation snapshot, and candid moment my mom could fit into a frame. I used to cringe when friends came over, wishing we had one large piece of abstract art instead of what I called our "narcissism wall."
But here's what I missed: those walls told our story. And now, maximalist gallery walls are everywhere in design magazines. The only difference? They're mixing family photos with art prints and calling it "curated."
That friend who works in interior design? She charges clients $500 to create the exact same photo arrangement my mom did intuitively with frames from Target.
4. Floral print sofas
Nothing said "we got this on sale at the furniture warehouse" quite like a floral print sofa. My aunt had one in dusty rose with cabbage roses all over it. I swore I'd only ever own solid-colored furniture.
Guess what's trending? Grandmillennial style, complete with chintz florals and botanical prints. Designers are sourcing vintage floral sofas for thousands of dollars, calling them "statement pieces" and "conversation starters."
The comfort factor was always there - those sofas hid stains, lasted forever, and somehow made every living room feel more inviting. We just had to wait for minimalism to exhaust us before we could appreciate pattern again.
5. Macrame plant hangers
My mom went through a macrame phase in the early 2000s, about twenty years after everyone else. She hung plants in every corner, creating what I called a "suburban jungle nightmare." I was convinced it made our house look like a time capsule.
Now I pay $45 for a single macrame hanger at the farmers market. The exact same style my mom made herself from rope she bought at the hardware store. The bohemian revival has made these practical plant solutions into artisanal decor pieces.
What changed? Nothing, really. We just remembered that bringing nature indoors never goes out of style, and sometimes the old ways of displaying plants are the best ways.
6. Wood paneling on accent walls
This one still makes me laugh. The wood paneling in our basement was my personal enemy. Dark, oppressive, impossible to decorate around - or so I thought. Every time I visited home from college, I'd campaign for its removal.
Now designers are installing wood paneling and calling it "organic texture" and "warmth." The darker the wood, the more "moody and sophisticated" it apparently is. Some clients are paying contractors to install the exact paneling previous owners ripped out.
The lesson? Sometimes "dated" is just another word for "ahead of its time" or maybe "behind the times enough to come back around."
7. Recliner chairs
The ultimate symbol of giving up on style - or so I believed. My dad's recliner was this massive burgundy leather thing that dominated one corner of our living room. I saw it as the antithesis of good design, a monument to choosing comfort over aesthetics.
Except now, designers are incorporating vintage recliners into contemporary spaces, calling them "functional sculpture." High-end furniture stores sell "motion chairs" for thousands - which are just recliners with better marketing.
That chair where my dad watched the news every night? It was never the problem. Our prejudice against comfort was.
8. Popcorn ceilings
Finally, the feature everyone loves to hate: popcorn ceilings. My parents' living room had them, complete with the occasional sparkle when light hit just right. I spent years staring up at them, planning their eventual demise.
But here's the plot twist: some designers are now deliberately adding texture to ceilings. Not exactly popcorn, but textured plaster that creates visual interest and - wait for it - helps with acoustics. The very thing popcorn ceilings were designed to do.
A designer recently told me that perfectly smooth ceilings can make a room feel cold and echo-prone. Sometimes, she said, what seems like bad design is actually solving a problem we forgot we had.
Final thoughts
Looking around my living room now, I see pieces I bought because they were "sophisticated" already looking dated, while my grandmother's brass candlesticks - the ones I inherited reluctantly - are the items guests compliment most.
The truth is, most of these "tacky" items were never really about bad taste. They were about practicality, comfort, and making a house feel like a home on a budget. They told the story of families who prioritized togetherness over aesthetics, who chose durability over trends.
Maybe the real sophistication isn't in knowing what's currently cool. Maybe it's in recognizing that good design has always been about how a space makes you feel. And if that floral sofa makes you feel at home? That's all the trend validation you need.

