I get the love for dry fitting and scribing, but honestly, I’ve had better luck just custom ordering filler strips and panels to hide the worst gaps. Maybe it’s cheating, but after wrestling with a 1940s kitchen where nothing was square, I’d rather spend an afternoon making clean filler pieces than lose days trying to scribe every last base. The cabinets still look sharp, and my sanity stays mostly intact. Sometimes you just have to pick your battles...
I totally get where you’re coming from—sometimes “good enough” really is good enough, especially with old houses.
I’m curious, did you find custom fillers added much to your overall cost? I’ve been weighing whether the time saved is worth the extra expense, since my budget’s pretty tight.“after wrestling with a 1940s kitchen where nothing was square, I’d rather spend an afternoon making clean filler pieces than lose days trying to scribe every last base.”
Honestly, I keep going back and forth on this. I get the appeal of just using clean filler pieces—makes everything look tidy, and you’re not fighting with weird angles all day. But I keep wondering if it’s worth sacrificing that old-house character for a bit of convenience? My place has these quirky gaps and uneven spots, and part of me kind of loves how it tells the story of the house.
I tried making my own fillers from leftover plywood scraps, just painted to match, and it cost almost nothing except time. Not perfect, but it blends in well enough. Have you thought about DIYing the fillers instead of buying custom ones? It might take a little longer, but could save some cash and still give you that “finished” look. Or maybe I’m just being stubborn about wanting to keep things a little imperfect...
I get where you’re coming from about the character—those little quirks can be pretty charming. But after wrestling with my own kitchen for way too long, I started to wish I’d just gone with the clean, pre-made fillers. DIYing them was fun at first, but matching the finish and getting the fit right on those weird angles turned into a bigger headache than I expected. Sometimes I think a little convenience is worth it, even if it means things look a bit more “new.” Maybe it’s just me, but after months of staring at my slightly off-kilter handiwork, I started craving that crisp, straight-line look.
Sometimes I think a little convenience is worth it, even if it means things look a bit more “new.”
I get that—there’s definitely something satisfying about those perfect lines and matching finishes. But do you ever find yourself missing the quirks after a while? I’ve done both, and honestly, the pre-made stuff was way faster, but sometimes my kitchen feels a bit too “catalog.” Maybe it’s just nostalgia for the chaos, but I kind of like seeing the little imperfections I made myself. Ever regret not keeping a bit of that DIY charm?
