Restoring the Vintage Fixtures in My Rental Is an Easy—and Satisfying—Improvement

This story is a part of New Year, New You, a package devoted to small, low-stress home improvement projects that, with a little effort, will dramatically improve your life.

I’ve lived in my Greenpoint, Brooklyn apartment for 12 years. It’s a historically Polish neighborhood where most of the units are railroad-style, though my apartment is a two-bedroom—with beautiful details hidden under layers of paint. In New York City, landlords are required by law to repaint occupied units within buildings of three or more units every three years (although my apartment was repainted once since I moved in over a decade ago, which is fine by me as things are in good shape). But, truly, I cannot begin to understand why painters tend to glob right over entire doorknobs and hinges and other metal fixtures. If you live in New York in a pre-war building, you know what I’m talking about—the "landlord special." So recently, I decided to peel back those layers by restoring the glass doorknobs and Art Deco backplates to how they were installed when my building was built in 1931. Beauty awaited underneath!

I initially began this project as a way to procrastinate and take breaks from an ongoing screenwriting project. There’s only so much I can write (or think) in a single sitting before I start getting restless. A writer friend of mine recommended that I take up a simple, tactile activity that I can do at home so my brain can wander for brief moments and recharge. For her, it’s origami. For me, it’s chipping paint. Unfortunately, chipping paint quickly evolved into an obsessive DIY home project that’s already consumed huge chunks of my precious writing time. Everywhere I look, there’s paint I can remove. (Though, on the flip side, there’s nothing quite as satisfying as bringing vintage hardware back to its original luster.)

Ask your landlord for permission (or don’t)

My landlord, Marian, died a few months ago. He was an offensive and vibrant man in his 80s when I moved into his building in 2011, initially strict and difficult to reason with. Over time, we developed a rapport and I grew fond of him and his loose-cannon ways. After he underwent a surgery in 2021, he recovered and subsequently lived out his last couple of years at his son’s apartment in Queens with his daughter-in-law and grandkids. Marian’s son told me his dad had wanted to return to his building when he got better—after all, Marian had bought and owned it with his late wife (who had died before I even moved in)—but, tragically, that never happened. One afternoon, I got a text message saying Marian was gone.

Anyway, I never asked anyone for permission whether or not I can strip paint. But when it comes to NYC rentals, the general unspoken rule is that whatever changes or renovations you make, you’re expected to either "return" the apartment back to how it was when you first moved in, or simply understand that you’re investing your own money into these home improvement projects and you’re never getting reimbursed for them. When I think about how I’m restoring vintage fixtures to what they used to look like when Marian first bought the building, I feel like he’d be okay with it.

Gather the right tools

Most of my early paint-chipping attempts on the doorknobs and backplates were done with an X-ACTO knife that I found on my desk. As I got really into the project, I bought paint scrapers, putty knives, a container of paint/varnish remover, and gloves at a local hardware store. A screwdriver, brush, and safety goggles, all of which I already owned, also came in handy. I watched a YouTube on how to strip stubborn paint off metal fixtures and they recommended boiling the fixtures in a pot of water with baking soda for 10 minutes, so I also sacrificed an old pot that’s obviously never meant to be used for cooking again.

Of course, beware of lead

Lead-based paint was heavily used in older homes, so this is something to be wary of if you also choose to strip paint from a pre-war home. Stay diligent about cleaning, sweeping, and getting rid of dust afterwards. JSE Labs, a Portland, OR-based asbestos, mold, and lead-testing lab, recommends "wet washing" surfaces with household detergent and water: "It’s important to do this as carefully and methodically as possible to make sure you actually remove the dust that’s settled completely, as opposed to simply kicking it up back into the air." You can also consult with a specialist, buy rapid dust tests, or send a paint/dust sample to an accredited lab for more accurate results.

Keep your cool—because this project is frustrating

The process of stripping paint off vintage fixtures felt like an excavation—it took an extraordinary amount of perseverance. With so many small screws buried under paint, there were many times when I thought they would never emerge and the fixtures would never come off. My general process was to use a metal paint scraper with a sharp gouging tip to help loosen larger pieces and to clear the areas where the screws were buried. The smaller the screw, the more detailed I had to be. Once the screws were visible and enough paint was chipped from its tiny grooves, I went in with my flat head to remove the entire hardware. Then, anything metal that was covered in paint went into the boiling baking soda water bath. (The paint removes like loose skin and it’s very satisfying seeing the metal emerging from underneath.) After their bath, I gave everything a rinse and a quick polish with steel wool and the fixtures were ready to be rescrewed back onto the doors. This is a project that tested my patience but I slayed (but barely).

Don’t get locked in, seriously

When I removed the doorknobs of my bedroom, I carelessly made the mistake of not covering the strike plate or taping down the latch—so when the doorknob with the spindle was removed on the other side of my bedroom and I closed the door shut, I had no way of getting out. (I also happened to be listening to a ghost podcast at the time, and it was raining heavily. I was in my own horror movie!)

Then I made the dumber mistake of climbing out of my window to what is a non-official terrace area when I fell headfirst, from four feet high, right onto my face, and started bleeding in the rain. I tried breaking into the window of my second bedroom but it was closed shut. I thought to myself, "Fuck, I’m going to be stuck in my bedroom for hours. A locksmith is going to have to break down my front door. I’m going to miss my haircut."

Desperately, I texted my neighbors and asked if anyone knew how to break into my apartment. Maybe with an axe? If anyone had an axe? What’s wild is that Neighbor Mike broke into my apartment not even 10 seconds later through our shared fire escape where I had an open window. I couldn’t believe it. I told him to locate the doorknob with the spindle and stick it into the hub to get the door open. I was wet, bloody, and dirty, but I was free. Before Neighbor Mike left he advised, "You should tape down the latch next time."

Restore other hidden gems

I love restoring vintage fixtures because they offer charming clues and insights into the history of a pre-war building. In addition to uncovering the Art Deco door knobs and backplates in my apartment, I also rediscovered antique cabinet handles, light switch plates, and a decorative molding that outlines my living room that I learned is a picture rail for hanging art. Another friend told me she had restored a vintage peep hole where the swinging cover had been painted over. When I visit friends who live in Bed-Stuy where townhouses are more prevalent, I see the original plantation shutters (the ones that open and close like doors) that are waiting to be set free. It’s a wondrous thing to be living with gorgeous home details of a bygone era that are still functional—with some TLC.

Photo by Amanda Jasnowski/Getty Images

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