18 Spanish Colonial Style Homes to Inspire Classic Beauty

18 Spanish Colonial Style Homes to Inspire Classic Beauty

When I first fell in love with Spanish Colonial style, it wasn’t because of a design magazine or some viral Instagram reel. Nope — it was a leaky old hacienda rental we stayed in for one chaotic spring break. The kind with sunbaked walls, a vine-covered courtyard, and a bathroom sink that tilted just slightly to the left. It was charming in a way I couldn’t explain — and completely impractical for brushing your teeth without losing your toothbrush.

But that house stayed with me. Years later, when we started fixing up our forever home (which definitely did NOT start as a Spanish Colonial beauty), I kept sneaking in terracotta pots and wrought iron details, like a slow decor takeover. My partner finally caught on after I tried to pitch him on a secondhand lantern the size of a toddler.

Here’s a meandering walk through some of my favorite Spanish Colonial elements — not as a checklist, but as memories, ideas, and slightly unhinged decorating decisions I still don’t regret.

We had this dream of adding arches. I’m talking doorways, windows, niches — anything that could be curved, I wanted it curved. We didn’t have the budget for custom masonry, so I DIY’d a faux arch with peel-and-stick wood veneer and two questionable YouTube tutorials. It… kind of worked? Until the cat used it as a scratching post. Still, worth it.

One weekend, I painted over the beige stucco with a warm white limewash because Pinterest told me to. I didn’t tape anything off. Our hose spigot is still half-white. It looks like a design decision if you squint.

My proudest moment? Scoring a massive, antique wooden door at a salvage yard for $90. It took three people and a winch to get it home. The hinges squeak like an old pirate ship, and I love it more than any rational person should.

Our courtyard (okay, fine — it’s more like a slightly paved rectangle with too many potted plants) has string lights, a chipped mosaic table, and a mismatched pair of metal chairs I found on the side of the road. It’s where I drink my morning coffee and feel like I’m on vacation — if I ignore the neighbor’s leaf blower.

Inside, we leaned into dark wood beams and moody lighting. I put up a salvaged lantern in the hallway, and yes, I did electrocute myself a little bit. The glow is completely worth it. There’s also a tiny shelf in the kitchen where I keep mismatched pottery, a Spanish wine cork from our honeymoon, and a lemon that’s been decorative for three months. It might be a fossil now.

The bathroom has vintage-inspired tile that was an absolute nightmare to grout. I cried once. Maybe twice. But the end result looks like something you’d find in a tiny hotel tucked into a hillside in Granada.

Even our mailbox got in on the Spanish Colonial action — I painted it clay red and added an iron number plate I found at a flea market. Mail still gets lost sometimes, but it looks cute doing it.

Our friends joke that our house is always halfway under construction, and they’re not wrong. But every weird crack in the plaster, every heavy beam we lifted ourselves — it feels earned. Like our home has a story now, not just a style.

If you’re drawn to Spanish Colonial design, it’s probably not because you want everything perfect. You want something warm, worn, and just a little bit wild. Let the walls crack. Let the vines grow. Let the furniture be slightly too heavy for the room. That’s the magic.

And if you mess something up along the way (like tiling your backsplash upside down — not that I’d know…), it’s okay. That’s part of the charm too.

Here’s to homes that feel lived-in, layered, and full of character — whether you’re working with a sprawling estate or just dreaming from your apartment window.

Next project? I’m eyeing a secondhand fountain for the backyard. It leaks. It gurgles. I’m obsessed.