There's a decision at the center of every honest restoration, and it isn't a technical one. It's this: how much of the object's past do you keep?
The line before showroom-new
You can take a hundred-year-old fixture all the way back to bright, flawless, showroom metal. The tools exist to do it. Done thoroughly, it wipes out every sign the thing was ever used: every scuff, every softened edge, every place a hand rubbed the finish thin. What you're left with is clean, and empty of history. We don't work that way, and it's a choice, not a shortfall. Restoration here has a boundary. Bring the piece back to safe, sound, working order, rewire it, replace what failed, clean it honestly, and then stop, before you sand its life off. A fixture that's hung in one house since 1930 ought to still look like it has. That patina isn't damage. It's the piece's own record, and it stays.
The opposite mistake is less obvious but just as dishonest. A faux-distressed reproduction fakes a past it never had; over-restoration deletes a past that really happened. Both leave you with an object that no longer tells the truth about itself. So the pieces here sit honestly across a range. Not reproduced. Not "inspired by." Not scoured back to a false newness. Restored.
Salvager's Note: Patina isn't damage, and a fixture stripped to showroom metal has lost the one thing a new fixture can't fake: real age. Honest restoration brings a piece back to safe and sound, then stops, leaving the marks it earned where you can see them.