Thanks, everyone, for weighing in on the bin pull designs last month! The responses were fairly even in favor of each, but I appreciate all your comments because you made me think. Here are the two candidates: the plain bin pull and the reed-and-ribbon design:
After much shilly-shallying, I decided that the reed-and-ribbon pull, while attractive, and while it absolutely would look nice, just wasn’t the right design for our kitchen. My heart was temporarily dazzled by its pretty, classic design, but my brain knew I would regret not staying true the house’s simple 1913 soul. And then, unexpectedly, I rejected the plain bin pull, too—the design I’d idealized for years. Suddenly it just looked too large and dominant, with too much brushed nickel, and too modern for the many spots in our kitchen in which it will appear. (We’re going to have a lot of drawers.)
So I buried my nose in my Craftsman design books, determined to fall in love again. And I did. Here he is, Top Knobs’ Asbury bin pull (seen here nearly life-size):
I ordered them from MyKnobs.com, and they are perfect. Nice and hefty with a beautiful finish. Now I have the vintage design I need, not too big or too fancy, with just the right spark of brushed nickel to tie in with the rest of the kitchen’s metal finishes. I can’t wait to actually install them on something … but the drawer and door fronts are in the paint room this weekend, waiting for that lazy painter to shake a leg!
Time for a little show and tell. Our electrician, Casey, was at the house last week, prepping to install several hundred (at least!) outlets for our electrification. He rewired a basement circuit that had not one, not two, but three switches to isolate the furnace. He eliminated one of them—this beauty, patented (and probably installed) in 1917.
On the back of one of the old kitchen drawers (which is now sitting, still full of silverware, on the bed in our spare bedroom) I noticed this tag.
Eric did a quick online search and discovered that, according to The Timberman (an industry journal “Devoted to the Lumber Interests of the Pacific Coast”) of Sept. 1912, Interior Finish Manufacturing Company incorporated with a capital stock of $8000 in 1912, the year before our house was built. We assume Lipscomb and Reeves was the builder who did our kitchen’s 1940s remodel. The drawers have the unadorned fronts and rounded edges popular in the 40s and 50s. I had thought these were homemade cabinets, but I was wrong!
We are still waiting to find a bundle of money in a wall, but in the meantime, this stuff is fun to collect.