T’other day my friends at the Council were kind enough to arrange for a brand spanking new recycling wheelie bin in a tasteful corporate shade of plum to be delivered to me.

Loyal citizen that I am, I treasured the bin and took it to my heart — well, to the back door. I filled it with papery, plasticky stuff I didn’t want any more and anxiously awaited the next recycling day, when the bin would have its first emptying. All went according to plan and my pleasure was complete until after the bin was emptied. I wasn’t there to grab it from the kerb and wheel it back to the safety of my back door, and shock! Before I could retrieve it, it was wheeled away by somebody else!

Luckily for me the culprit was not a bin thief – it was the neighbours doing me the favour of taking the bin back to their garden gate, from where it was easy for me to lead it to its rightful home. Chastened by the memory of the emotional torment I suffered while believing that my bin had been taken from me, and knowing that it is bloody difficult to get a replacement, I resolved there and then to mark my bin with its house number, so there would be no question over where it belonged. Although some bins are now being fitted with advanced sensing and remote detection apparatus, I lacked the knowledge to apply such a technique. But I had a spraycan.

What would be a suitable approach to this lettering work? An eminent typographer has drawn attention to the variable quality of numbers applied to bins, with a particular focus on the Reading conurbation. I needed to uphold my typographic credentials, so this is what I did. You can read along too, and find out how to number your bin like a pro.

What you need

What to do