DIYin’ like a boss
Some weeks ago when Noah and L were away and the girls were all a’play, we spent some time at a yard sale. Several purchases were made, including a jaunty hat, a maxi skirt, a bowl and an umbrella. Typical yard sale fare. Then I heard some magical words strung together: “dresser” and “free.” I already had my car backed up to the driveway before the sentence was finished.
The dresser sat in our bedroom for a month or so, with the intent being that eventually it would end up in Rosie’s room once we A.) had a room that could actually be called just “Rosie’s” and B.) sold the monstrosity that is her changing table. And though the selling of the changing table is being held up by a certain person’s reluctance to drop the kids off at the pool (ifyouknowwhatimean) and instead prefer to deposit her byproducts in the soft fluffy folds of the princess-covered pull-on diapers that tack $15 on to my grocery bill every week, the “just Rosie’s room” part is here now.
Last week while Noah was gone to Florida, we brought his old bed down from the attic and reassembled it in the study (and moved the keyboard and rolled up and stored the carpet and relocated my desk and hefted the loveseat to the back porch, and, and, and …) with the goal that by the time Noah started first grade (NEXT. TUESDAY. WHAAAA?) the kids would each have their own room. The reasons for this are many, and will be delved into in a later post.
Because today: We’re gonna DIY the mess outta this dress (er.)
First up: paintin’. I decided to pick something bold and showy, kind of like the recipient of the dresser herself.
Next up: Put a knob on it! I totally stole this idea got inspired to do this from Rebecca’s post over at GGC. My wallet had some Anthropologie gift card goodness burning a hole in it, and there just so happens to be a store on my way home from work, so I spent a half an hour one afternoon perusing the hardware section holding up random selections and saying “Excuse me, is this a knob? Or a finnial? Anyone? Knob? Finnial? Hello? I JUST NEED TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A KNOB AND A FINNIAL.” The Anthropologie people were horrified. I can’t take me anywhere.
After the knobs and paint were procured, it was time to slap on some color.
I got a wild notion slash had a momentary lapse of judgment and let Rosie help with the painting. (Which surprisingly went off without a hitch.) I was willing to agree on a bathing suit or an old shirt of mine or even a current outfit that was maybe too small as a smock, but Rosie had other ideas.
Works for me, kid.
I finished up the body of the dresser with Rosie’s slapdash smears and my careful coat and then later that night tackled the drawers, careful to paint every part, inside and out. The next day, I added contact paper to line them. Oh heck yeah, we’re goin’ all out classy, fools. CAN’T TOUCH THIS.
(No seriously, I couldn’t touch it much at this point, because I was trying to let the paint dry really well before messing around with it.)
But then I DID mess around with it, and dragged it back to the same spot as the first picture so I could do a fancy schmancy before/after pic, like so. VOILÁ:
I ain’t gonna lie: I am totally stoked about this cobbled-together, free-except-for-one-quart-of-Benjamin-Moore-no-VOC-latex-in-Poolside-Blue, naked-paint-session-producing piece of furniture. And it makes me excited about putting together a room for Rosie (and for Noah). I foresee some who’s-your-daddy decor trash talking posts in the future. Who’s in?