Curtains & Blinds

Curtains that move house, blinds that stay with the window:

that is the split that matters most when you buy either one second-hand. A fabric curtain is gathered on a rod or a track, so a panel that is a little wide simply hangs fuller, and the hem can be let down or taken up. Blackout-lined curtains darken a bedroom; unlined sheers soften the light without shutting out the day. Blinds are built to a measurement. A roller blind winds one sheet of fabric onto a tube, either screen, an open weave that cuts glare while you still see out, or blackout, a coated fabric that stops the light. A zebra or day-and-night blind slides two layers of sheer and solid bands past each other, so one blind does both jobs. Verticals are the usual answer for a sliding balcony door, because the louvres stack to one side and you walk straight through.

Screen blinds on tower glass, and the catch after dark:

in an apartment glazed from floor to ceiling, screen is what most people fit. The tighter the weave, the more glare and heat it holds back and the less view comes through; darker colours see out more clearly, pale ones bounce more heat. Screen privacy only works by day, though. With the lights on inside, the tower opposite can see straight in, which is why bedrooms tend to get blackout or zebra blinds, or a screen roller behind curtains.

What a blind made for someone else’s window is worth:

made-to-measure blinds are quoted by area, fabric and controls, so one for a wide balcony door costs several times one for a bathroom window, and a motor adds a good share again. Second-hand, the price has little to do with what was paid. A workshop can narrow a roller or a vertical by trimming tube, fabric and track, but nothing makes one wider, so a blind that fits is worth far more than one that nearly does. Curtains hold their value better because a gathered panel forgives a few centimetres either way.

Testing a used roller blind before it comes off its brackets:

run it down and up its whole drop. If it creeps down after you let go of the chain, or the chain clicks without the tube turning, the clutch is worn: a cheap part, but a sign of hard use. Hold a blackout blind against a bright window; pinpricks of light and fine cracks in the coating along the roll lines cannot be repaired. On a zebra blind, close the bands and check they line up across the full width. Sun does the rest, on the side facing the glass. A faded outer face and fabric that tears when pinched at a fold mean the fibres have rotted, and a window that bleached a curtain like that has probably done the same to the rug beneath it. Plastic vertical louvres turn yellow and brittle and their hooks snap, so check every one still hangs.

Listing a set of blinds by the window they came off:

give the overall width including brackets, the fabric width and the drop, and say whether it was mounted inside the recess or on the wall above. Name the chain side and the fabric, and whether the cassette goes with it. Photograph each blind lowered in daylight, plus one shot against the light that shows the weave and any pinholes. Then say where it hung, because the best buyer is a neighbour with the same window; in a development in Arraiján, where houses of one model share their windows, that line does more than any photo. Spare curtain fabric made up into matching cushion covers belongs in the same lot. Someone driving over from a tower in Costa del Este will bring a tape measure, so leave the blind on its brackets, unrolled, where it can be measured end to end.