In the late summer of 2002, I moved to that shiny capitalist hub, Canary Wharf. Among the list of general items I needed to make my flat a home – bottle opener, reading light, bottle of champagne – was a bin. The choices of bins I found summed up my continuing troublesome relationship with this piece of functional furniture.
First up I discovered some seamless, sculpted attractive bins, available in a range of colours, which I’d have been proud to have in my home. They cost £395 each. £395!! For something you put your junk mail and used teabags in. I’ve been known to splash out in my time, but if I’m spending hundreds on an item I at least want to wear it. (And, yes, thank you to the person that instantly thought: you could put it over your head! I am not in the habit of channelling an 8-year-old pretending to be a Dalek, as my fashion icon. Not yet, anyway.)
The other type of bin I could find? Garish, tacky, and cheap looking. And thus my eyes were opened to the world of two bins. A pattern that is repeated ad infinitum all over the retail world. Finding a bin that is visually pleasing, but doesn’t cost the same as a winter coat is endlessly trying.
I’ve been looking for one for my bedroom (which is styled in rich chocolate brown and gold, with art deco touches), and finally I’ve found it! Umbra’s waste paper bin in espresso brown. It’s a wood texture, dark on the outside, and golden warm wood on the inside, like a chocolate covered toffee. And it sits perfectly in my bedroom. At £19.99, it’s not the cheapest bin, but it’s certainly not hundreds either. Well worth the wait.
Umbra Woodrow waste paper bin costs £19.99 and is available from here.