How to Measure Before You Buy Storage Bins

Measure the space before you go shopping, and measure it in three numbers, not one. Width, depth, and height. I know that sounds obvious. I also know how many people, myself very much included, have carried a bin up a flight of stairs only to find it is a quarter inch too tall to slide under the shelf above it.

Storage containers fail on fit far more often than they fail on quality. A sturdy bin in the wrong dimensions is useless, and a flimsy one in the right dimensions still solves your problem for a couple of years. So the tape measure is the tool that matters here, more than any review or material.

The three numbers, and the fourth one nobody takes

Width and depth are straightforward, with one catch: measure at the narrowest point, not the widest. Closet openings are frequently narrower than the closet itself, thanks to door frames and trim. Cabinet openings are narrower than the cabinet because of the face frame. If the bin has to pass through an opening, the opening is your real width.

Height is where people get caught. Measure from the shelf surface to the underside of whatever is above it, then subtract at least half an inch. You need clearance to lift a bin over its lip, particularly if it is a bin you plan to pull out often. A container that has to be dragged rather than lifted will scrape the shelf and eventually stop being used.

The fourth number is the one I forgot for years: how far the container needs to come out before you can open or reach into it. On a shelf, that is fine. In a closet with a door that swings inward, or a cabinet next to a wall, the pull out clearance is a real constraint. I have a base cabinet in my kitchen where the dishwasher door blocks the swing, so anything stored there has to be reachable from a bin pulled out no more than eight inches. Learned that after buying two deep bins that I could only access by closing the dishwasher first.

Interior versus exterior dimensions

Listed dimensions are usually exterior, and often measured at the widest point, which on a tapered bin is the rim. Two things follow from that. First, the usable interior is smaller than the number you read, sometimes considerably. Second, tapered bins waste space when placed side by side, because the walls only touch at the top.

Straight sided bins hold more per square foot of shelf and line up flush against each other. Tapered bins nest for storage when empty and cost less. If you are filling a fixed space and want maximum capacity, straight sides win. If you are storing seasonal things that spend half the year empty, nesting is genuinely useful.

When a listing gives one set of numbers, assume exterior. When it gives both, use the interior number to decide whether your things fit and the exterior number to decide whether the bin fits.

Measure the things, not just the space

Here is the step that saves the most trips: before you shop, take the pile of items the container is meant to hold and stack it the way it would sit inside. Then measure that stack. You now know the volume you need, in actual inches, rather than the volume you imagine.

• For flat things such as folded cloths, papers, or boxed goods, measure the height of the stack and add a couple of inches of breathing room.
• For tall awkward things such as bottles and sprays, measure the tallest item. That one item sets your minimum bin height, and it is usually the reason a bin does not work.
• For small loose things, pour them into a mixing bowl and note roughly how full it gets. A quart is a quart whether it is in a bowl or a bin.
• For anything you file upright, measure the depth of the widest item front to back, since that determines whether it can stand rather than lie down.

I keep a note on my phone titled Measurements with a running list: linen closet shelf, twenty eight by thirteen and a half, ten inches of clearance. Under sink cabinet, eighteen wide at the opening, plumbing intrudes on the left. Hall cabinet shelves adjustable, current spacing eleven inches. That note has saved me more returns than any other single habit, because the decision point is always in the store, not at home with the tape measure in hand.

Cardboard first, if the space is odd

For a shelf that is a strange size, or a corner with plumbing running through it, I cut a mockup out of a cereal box or a shipping carton before spending anything. Tape it into the rough shape of the bin you are considering, at the dimensions listed, and set it in the space. It takes ten minutes and it settles the question completely.

This sounds fussy. It is much less fussy than driving back to a store. It is especially worth doing for anything that has to sit under a sink, where the drain pipe eats the middle of the cabinet and the usable footprint is two odd shaped side regions rather than one rectangle.

Think in a small number of sizes

The single change that made my storage feel calmer was cutting down to three container sizes across the whole house. A large rectangular bin, a medium one that is exactly half the large one’s width, and a shallow tray. Because the medium is half the large, they combine cleanly on a shelf without gaps, and I can swap what lives where without rethinking the layout.

This is a common cabinetry and kitchen design idea and it applies just as well to shelves. When your containers are modular, reorganizing is a matter of moving boxes. When every container is a different bespoke shape, reorganizing means shopping again.

Pick your sizes based on your most constrained shelf, not your most generous one. If the narrow linen closet dictates a twelve inch depth, use twelve inch depth everywhere, and accept a little wasted room in the deeper cabinet. Interchangeability is worth more than perfect fill.

Weight, handles, and where the bin lives

Height on the shelf changes what kind of container you want, and this gets overlooked. Above eye level, you want handles, light weight, and open tops or clear fronts, because you will be pulling the bin down blind and you cannot see into it from below. Down low, weight matters much less and lids matter more, since low shelves catch dust and the occasional spill.

At the extremes I have some firm preferences. Nothing heavy goes above shoulder height, ever. Anything above shoulder height gets a handle on the short end, because you will be reaching up and pulling toward yourself. And nothing that I need weekly goes on the top shelf, no matter how neatly it fits, because the friction of getting a step stool guarantees the item ends up living on the counter instead.

The best container is the one that matches how you reach for the thing, at the height it lives, with the hands you actually have free at that moment.

Lids, or no lids

Lids are for things you access a few times a year and want protected from dust: off season items, spare bedding, keepsakes. Lids on daily use containers are a slow leak of friction. The lid comes off, gets set down somewhere, and after a week the bin is functionally open anyway with a lid leaning against the wall.

If you need dust protection on something you use often, a drawer or a closed cabinet beats a lidded bin, because the closure is built into the furniture and does not require a separate action. When neither is available, an open bin on a shelf that gets wiped occasionally is more sustainable than a lid you will stop using.

Before the next shopping trip

Do this first: walk the house with a tape measure and one notes app open, and record the three numbers for every shelf, drawer, and cabinet opening you are likely to buy for. It takes about twenty minutes for a whole floor. Then measure your piles, not your intentions. Then buy one, not six.

The tape measure is boring, and boring is exactly what makes a storage plan hold up. The containers I still like years later are all unremarkable rectangles in two sizes that happen to fit. The ones I regret were interesting shapes I bought before I knew the numbers.