Friday, February 22, 2013
I want to say it was for my 16th birthday. My dad and I went shopping for my hope chest. It's an old fashioned idea--gathering table clothes, sheets, knick knacks, that you can bring into your new, married, home. Think Puritans. Big fan of those guys when I was in high school. I was a romantic and completely enthralled with the idea. No matter that I filled the chest with books, old Disney magazines and worn, sad, looking dolls. Dad and I bought this soft, blond, pine chest. We sanded it and stained it a bright cherry. And, it stayed that way till last week. I primed the hope chest, my two small inherited dressers, and two, mismatched, consignment shop end tables. In one night. Bourbon helped the process. I love the way white looks--I almost stopped there. If you were to look through my Home Inspiration Pinterest board, that's pretty much all you see--white. But, I knew I wanted color. So, I bought two quarts of paint, one in Raindrop Blue, the other in Spring Green. The paint was low-fume, semi-gloss paint. It went on beautifully and without much effort. I painted the hope chest and the dressers blue, and then the end tables green. Two coats! In an apartment full of white walls, the burst of color is lovely. Sighs of delight were cooed the next morning when the sun started stream in. That was, until I realized I had painted my underwear drawer shut. Again. Out came the butter knife.
PS. I used Sherwin Williams interior paint, layered newspapers under the legs, and bought a very expensive brush (that will supposedly last me my entire life, so the clever paint clerk said). Two nights and one afternoon! Voila!