Kind of funny how you start out thinking windows are just about glass and insulation, and then it turns into this whole adventure with shims, caulk, and suddenly you’re on YouTube at midnight figuring out how to cope a joint.
That’s the part nobody warns you about. People think it’s just “pop in a new window,” but old trim never comes off clean, and there’s always that one spot you can’t square up. I’ve seen even seasoned folks hit a wall (sometimes literally) with 1930s woodwork. You’re right—patching beats living with the old damage, even if it means more time with the wood filler than you planned.
People think it’s just “pop in a new window,” but old trim never comes off clean, and there’s always that one spot you can’t square up.
I get what you mean, but honestly, I found leaving the trim in place (where possible) made things way easier. I measured super carefully, ordered windows to fit the existing openings, and only had to patch a couple of spots. Not perfect, but way less time with wood filler and sanding. Maybe it depends on the house age—mine’s a 1955 ranch, so the trim’s not as fancy as 1930s stuff.
Leaving the old trim can definitely make things simpler, especially in mid-century homes where it’s usually more basic. The main thing I’ve run into is that even small variances in the rough opening can throw you off, especially if the framing’s settled or shifted over time. Sometimes, you’ll get lucky and everything lines up, but I’ve had jobs where a “simple” window swap turned into a half-day of shimming and adjusting. Definitely worth double-checking for square and plumb before ordering.
I get where you’re coming from, but honestly, I’ve learned the hard way that leaving the old trim isn’t always the shortcut it seems. Especially in these older places—mid-century or not—sometimes the trim’s hiding all sorts of sins. I’ve had a couple windows where the original casing looked fine, but once I pulled it off, there was rot and some ancient patchwork that would’ve caused bigger headaches down the line if I’d just left it.
You mentioned,
That’s spot on, but I’d argue pulling the trim actually gives you a better shot at fixing those issues before they turn into leaks or drafts. Sure, it adds a bit of work up front, but at least you know what you’re dealing with.“even small variances in the rough opening can throw you off, especially if the framing’s settled or shifted over time.”
I guess it depends on how much of a perfectionist you are—or how much time you want to spend circling back to fix things later. For me, I’d rather bite the bullet and start fresh, even if it means a little more sawdust and swearing.
Yeah, I learned the hard way that old trim is basically a box of surprises—sometimes you pull it off and it’s just a mess of gaps and air leaks from decades ago. I’m all about making things more efficient, so I’d rather deal with the extra work up front than have my heating bill sneak up on me later. Plus, nothing like discovering insulation that looks like it’s from the Stone Age. Worth the hassle, in my book.
sometimes you pull it off and it’s just a mess of gaps and air leaks from decades ago
Totally get this. First time I swapped out windows, I thought it’d be a simple in-and-out job. Nope. Found old newspapers stuffed in as insulation—seriously, headlines from the 70s. Ended up spending more time sealing gaps than actually installing the window. If I’d known, I would’ve budgeted a whole weekend just for cleanup and fixing the framing. Worth it for lower bills, but man, it’s never as easy as it looks on YouTube.
- Ran into the same thing on a 1920s bungalow—pulled out the old sash and found layers of crumbling horsehair plaster and what looked like shredded magazine pages stuffed in every gap.
- Ended up needing way more spray foam and caulk than I ever expected.
- Biggest surprise? The framing wasn’t even close to square. Took a lot of shimming and patience to get the new window level.
- YouTube makes it look like a quick swap, but yeah, real life is messier... and dustier.
- Still, nothing beats feeling that draft finally disappear after you’re done.
Yeah, the “quick swap” fantasy gets a reality check fast, especially with houses from that era. Those old bungalows are full of surprises—sometimes it feels like you’re doing archaeology, not home improvement. I’ve seen everything from newspapers to old socks stuffed in the cavities. And whoever said “windows are standard sizes” clearly never met a 1920s carpenter. Shims become your best friend, but man, it’s satisfying when you finally get rid of that winter draft. Just wish I’d budgeted more time (and dust masks).
- Agree on the “archaeology” vibe—had a job where we found glass soda bottles and what looked like a hand-carved whistle in a wall cavity. Never know what’s hiding in those old frames.
- Standard-size windows? Rarely seen it, especially pre-war homes. Even “identical” windows in the same room can be off by half an inch or more.
- Shims are good, but don’t forget about spray foam for insulation—just don’t overdo it or you’ll bow the frame.
- I always double-check for rot around the sill and jambs. Sometimes you think you’re just swapping sashes, but then realize you need to rebuild half the opening.
- Dust masks are a must, but I’d add eye protection too—old plaster and insulation are brutal on the eyes.
- Budgeting extra time is smart, but I’d also say keep some contingency cash for surprise repairs. Those hidden issues can add up fast.
- Not everyone agrees, but I usually pre-paint or seal anything that’s going into the wall. Makes life easier, especially if moisture’s ever been an issue.
Honestly, every old house window project teaches me something new... usually the hard way.
- Didn’t realize how much old insulation could itch… seriously, next time I’ll double up on long sleeves.
- Measuring was trickier than I expected—thought “standard” meant standard, but nope, every window was a little weird.
- Kinda wish I’d known about pre-painting too—painted after install and made a mess.
- Found an old marble in the wall. No treasure, but it made my day.