How Picky Are You About Checking Your Own Reno Work?
But then again, I’ve had one person spot a single crooked outlet plate and fixate on it.
That hits home. I swear, I spent hours agonizing over grout colors and tile placement in my first bathroom reno, thinking every visitor would judge me for the tiniest mismatch. But when friends came over, they barely glanced at the details—unless I pointed them out. Most people just see the big picture.
I do think it’s a mix of personality and the fact that, when it’s your own money and sweat, you notice every flaw. It’s like buying a new car—you see every scratch, but no one else cares. That said, some folks are just wired to spot imperfections. My partner didn’t care about grout at all but went nuts over a slightly uneven cabinet door.
In the end, I’d say don’t let the stress eat you alive over the tiny stuff. Focus on what matters to you, fix what you can, and remember—most people won’t notice unless you give them a tour with a magnifying glass.
I get where you’re coming from. I’m the type who’ll notice a 1/16" gap in the trim and it’ll bug me for weeks, but I’ve learned most people don’t care unless it’s falling off the wall. My theory? If it’s safe, solid, and looks good from five feet away, you’re golden. Nitpicking every detail just sucks the fun out of it. That said, I still can’t walk past a crooked light switch without fixing it... guess old habits die hard.
I swear, living in a house built before indoor plumbing was a thing has turned me into both a perfectionist and a master of “good enough.” I’ll spend hours fussing with 120-year-old wavy baseboards that’ll never line up no matter what. But if my spouse can’t spot the flaw during “the five-foot test,” I call it a win. That said, I once spent an entire afternoon adjusting one door so it’d close without needing to shoulder-check it... Is that just me, or do old houses make you pick your battles?
I totally get where you’re coming from. With these old houses, you really do have to choose your battles. I’ve spent days trying to square up a single window, only to realize the whole wall is crooked anyway. At some point, you just have to accept “good enough” or you’ll drive yourself nuts. The five-foot test is honestly a lifesaver—if it looks right from across the room, that’s a win in my book too.
I hear you on the five-foot test—sometimes I think if I get too close, I’ll just find more stuff to fix. But I do wonder, where do you draw the line between “good enough” and “needs to be redone”? Like, if a door frame is off by half an inch but it still closes fine, do you leave it? I’ve found myself redoing things that probably didn’t matter to anyone but me... not sure if that’s attention to detail or just overkill.
