You’re not alone with the old-house mustiness. I’ve pulled up floorboards and found entire ecosystems thriving under there—no joke. Charcoal bags are a band-aid, but I swear by a box fan in the closet door for a few hours a week. It’s not glamorous, but it’s made more difference than any fancy gadget I’ve tried. Keep chipping away at it... these places have character, but they sure make you work for it.
Title: My Battle With Moldy Closets And Frizzy Hair
Charcoal bags are a band-aid, but I swear by a box fan in the closet door for a few hours a week. It’s not glamorous, but it’s made more difference than any fancy gadget I’ve tried.
I hear you on the “ecosystems”—pulled up a corner of carpet last summer and pretty sure I found the origin story for at least three horror movies. My wallet is still recovering from the vinegar-and-baking-soda phase (spoiler: my clothes just smelled like salad dressing for weeks).
I have to admit, I’m skeptical about the fan trick. Every time I try to rig up that kind of setup, it feels like I’m one step away from blowing all my socks into the hallway. Maybe it’s my ancient, rattly box fan… or maybe my closet just likes being damp.
What finally helped (well, “helped” is generous) was keeping the closet door wide open and running a dehumidifier in the hallway. Not exactly energy efficient, but it beats opening the door and getting hit with that “vintage basement” aroma every morning.
And don’t even get me started on frizzy hair—if humidity was currency, I’d be rich. I gave up trying to tame it; now I just call it my “historic home halo.” At least the house has character... and so does my hair.
If anyone figures out how to actually win this battle without spending half your paycheck on gadgets and miracle sprays, let me know. Until then, I’ll be over here pretending musty is a designer scent.
- That “vintage basement” aroma is all too real. My 1920s place basically invented it.
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“If humidity was currency, I’d be rich. I gave up trying to tame it; now I just call it my ‘historic home halo.’”
Love this attitude. I started calling mine “the humidity crown”—makes it sound intentional, right?
- Tried the fan trick. Ended up with a sock tornado and a closet that sounded like an airplane hangar. Maybe if I had a newer fan, but the one I inherited from my grandma is more “decorative relic” than appliance.
- Dehumidifier in the hallway is my current move too. Not cheap, but at least I don’t have to explain to guests why my closet smells like old gym shorts.
- Charcoal bags: meh. They work for about a week, then they just become closet decor.
- For the mold, I started rotating what’s in my closet every few weeks. If something’s been sitting untouched for a season, out it goes for some sun and air. Not exactly scientific, but it seems to help a bit (or maybe I’m just desperate).
- As for the hair, I’ve stopped fighting and started leaning in. Humidity curls are now “period-appropriate waves.” If anyone asks, I say it’s part of the historic home experience.
- One thing that’s made a small difference: cedar blocks. They don’t fix everything, but at least they add “forest” to the “musty” scent profile.
- At this point, I figure living in an old house means you’re always negotiating with the elements. Some days you win, some days your wardrobe smells like pickles.
- If anyone ever invents a solution that doesn’t cost a fortune or require a PhD in ventilation, they’ll be a hero to every historic homeowner out there. Until then, I’ll just keep pretending my house—and my hair—have “character.”
If “historic home halo” ever becomes a marketable feature, I’ll be first in line to slap it on a listing. That said, I’ve got to agree—old houses are basically a masterclass in humidity management (or, more accurately, humidity surrender). The dehumidifier is the MVP around here too, even if it sounds like a jet engine and eats more electricity than my fridge. I’ve tried the charcoal bags as well—at this point, they’re just “closet art” that occasionally get mistaken for lost socks.
“At this point, I figure living in an old house means you’re always negotiating with the elements. Some days you win, some days your wardrobe smells like pickles.”
That’s painfully accurate. I once had a tenant ask if their closet was supposed to smell “like a deli counter.” Not exactly the vintage charm they were hoping for.
Cedar blocks are a solid move—I’ve found that tossing in some cedar oil every couple months helps keep them from turning into just another piece of wood collecting dust. If you’re feeling ambitious (or just desperate), those little moisture absorber tubs from the hardware store can help too, but they fill up fast and then you’re left with a weird science experiment under your sweaters.
The closet rotation idea is underrated. Sunlight and fresh air do more than any gadget I’ve bought. I’ve even taken to hanging stuff out on the porch when the weather’s decent—neighbors probably think I’m airing out family secrets.
On the hair front: humidity waves are definitely “period-appropriate.” If anyone asks about my frizz, I just say it’s inspired by the original 1920s residents—surely someone back then rocked this look.
If there’s ever a cheap fix that doesn’t involve tearing out walls or running ductwork through every room, it’ll be revolutionary. Until then, I guess we just keep calling it “character” and hope nobody notices the pickle scent at open houses...
Definitely agree on the dehumidifier being the real MVP, even if it sounds like a small aircraft taking off. A couple things I’ve seen help:
- Cracking closet doors just a bit—airflow is underrated and sometimes makes more difference than gadgets.
- If you’re up for a minor project, adding a vent or louvered door to closets can help with circulation (not pretty, but effective).
- For stubborn spots, I’ve used a small fan on a timer inside the closet. Not elegant, but it keeps things drier.
Charcoal bags are basically decorative at this point, yeah. And those moisture tubs? I swear they multiply if you forget about them. Still waiting for that magic fix that doesn’t involve demo work... until then, “character” it is.
