A good white cabinet catches the light in a way dark wood never will. Run your hand over a painted door that's been finished properly and you feel the faint texture of brushwork under the sheen, not a flat plastic skin. Open the drawers and there should be a little resistance, then a smooth glide, like the thing was built by someone who expected you to use it for thirty years, not three.
Now, the honest part. White shows everything. Every greasy fingerprint near a kitchen handle, every water ring from a sweating glass set down without a coaster, every scuff a moving dolly leaves on a baseboard-height panel. If you've got young kids with markers or a dog who leans against furniture to scratch an itch, a matte white cabinet in a high traffic hallway is asking for trouble, and you'll be wiping it down more than you bargained for. It's also the wrong call in a room that gets harsh, flat light all day with no warmth to soften it, because stark white under cool bulbs can read closer to a doctor's office than a home. Where it does beautifully is in rooms that get real daylight, a dining room with east facing windows that go gold in the morning, a bedroom that catches late afternoon sun, a coastal or farmhouse style house where the walls already lean pale and the cabinet isn't fighting anything. It also works hard in small or dark rooms, a cramped hallway, a basement den, anywhere you need the eye to bounce light around rather than absorb it.
Older houses with some trim and molding already in place tend to suit a white cabinet more generously than a stripped down new build, because the existing woodwork gives it context instead of leaving it looking dropped in from a showroom floor. For finishes, I'd steer toward a soft white with a hint of warmth in it, something closer to old linen or chalk than clinical white, since true bright white under artificial light at night can feel a little cold and institutional. A slight sheen, not gloss, not chalky matte, hides fingerprints and cleans up easier, and it photographs calmer at every hour instead of glaring back at you under a lamp.
Given a few years, a decent white cabinet doesn't stay pristine, and that's not a flaw, it's the point. The corners soften first, the paint along the edges thins to a faint ivory where hands have rested on it a thousand times, and if you let it age honestly instead of touching it up every season, it starts to look like something that belongs to the house rather than something you bought last spring.