Finally bit the bullet and replaced our 90s-era crank windows with Jeld-Wen casement ones last spring, and honestly, I’m kind of kicking myself for waiting so long. The difference in draftiness was immediate—used to have to stuff towels around the frames in winter, which was both ugly and embarrassing when friends came over. Now, hardly any cold air sneaks through.
I will say, installation took longer than I thought (installer blamed my crooked walls, which… fair), but the finished look is super clean. Handles feel sturdy, and they open way smoother than my old ones ever did. Only minor gripe: I wish the screens were a little easier to pop out for cleaning, but maybe that’s just me being clumsy.
Anyone else make the switch to Jeld-Wen casements and notice a big change? Curious if they hold up as well after a few years—mine are still pretty new.
- Swapped out my old sliders for Jeld-Wen casements about two years ago—definitely noticed the draft improvement right away, especially in our living room.
- Installation was a pain, mostly because my house is 80+ years old and nothing’s square. Took longer than the installer quoted, but not really the window’s fault.
- The hardware still feels solid, no issues with cranking or leaks so far.
- Totally agree on the screens... I’ve fumbled them more than once trying to get them out for cleaning.
- Only thing I’m watching for long-term is how the seals hold up—had a friend whose started to wear after about five years, but maybe that’s just bad luck.
Had a similar headache with install—my place is 90 years old and the frames were way off level. Took a lot of shimming and patience. I’m curious, did you use the factory jamb extensions or build your own? I found the factory ones didn’t fit right.
Yeah, I ran into the same issue with the factory jamb extensions—they just didn’t line up right with my old plaster walls. Ended up making my own out of poplar, which took more time but fit way better. Those old houses never make anything easy, do they?
Had a similar situation with my 1960s ranch—nothing in this place is square, so the installer had to do some creative shimming. I debated tackling the jamb extensions myself but chickened out. Kind of wish I’d tried now, since the factory ones look a little chunky against the old trim. At least the drafts are gone, though.
At least the drafts are gone, though.
That’s the main thing, right? The energy savings and comfort pay off way more than obsessing over every little trim detail... at least that’s what I keep telling myself after wrestling with my own window project. My place is a 1958 split-level and, like you said, nothing is square. I swear, every time I take a level to anything in this house, it’s like the original builders were just eyeballing it.
I actually did try the jamb extensions myself—figured I’d save a few bucks and get a cleaner look with the old woodwork. Let’s just say there was a lot of cursing and some creative use of caulk. In hindsight, maybe the factory ones would’ve saved me some headaches, but then again, I’m picky about matching profiles. I totally get what you mean about the chunky look against vintage trim. It’s not a dealbreaker for me, but it does kind of stick out if you’re used to that slimmer midcentury vibe.
On the efficiency side, though? No contest. My heating bills dropped noticeably after swapping out the drafty originals for modern casements. The difference in comfort is wild—no more cold spots around the living room windows in January. I know some folks get hung up on aesthetics (and hey, guilty as charged), but honestly, if you’re living in it day-to-day, feeling warm and not hearing every gust of wind outside matters more.
One thing I do wish: I’d planned ahead for the trim situation instead of trying to “figure it out as I go.” If anyone else is thinking about this swap, measure everything twice and maybe mock up how those extensions will look before committing. Makes a world of difference.
Anyway, even if the new look isn’t perfect, not having to tape plastic over the windows every winter is worth it for me.