Here's a look at the techniques I used in a recent project.

First, the sharp gables and stone trim already nod to the Tudor style.

Second, the refined color combination of blue shutters and reddish brick. You don't see this pairing much around here — and for good reason, in my opinion. The roof is graphite, the most discreet choice, so it doesn't pull attention away from the rest.

Third, instead of the classic decorative surrounds around the windows, there's decorative vertical brickwork.

Fourth, that same band of brick acts as an informal boundary between the plinth and the wall, and also serves as a crowning cornice under the roof.

Fifth, a clean, restrained pattern with no unnecessary curls on the wrought-iron fencing.

I think we ended up with a good example of style that speaks to the present day.

For 150 years, England had a "window tax." So did France, Ireland, and Scotland. Back then this progressive wealth tax was gauged by the size of a house, and the number of windows (and other openings, in France) was used as an easy way to estimate that size.

We've had a similar practice in our studio for 12 years: the complexity of a house is determined by the number of openings. The system works very well for us, better than if we counted wall area or living space. For example, a façade design for a big garage or a windowless warehouse would cost very little, because there aren't many openings.

Over time, the "window tax" came to be called one of the main causes of unhealthy cities, as well as a "tax on light and health," because people built fewer windows to lower what they owed.

England also had a tax on the number of bricks in a wall. There was a push to allow larger individual bricks, but the government soon capped the size of bricks in production and imposed a double tax on the bigger ones.

There was a tax on wallpaper, too. Homeowners dodged it by buying plain paper and applying the pattern themselves with a stencil.