We have a ridiculously small collection of furniture, if you can call that. Our guest bedroom and living room are still basically empty (we're working on it!). The stuff we do have is all for our bedroom, so that's where I've been doing my latest project(s). Early on I decided we can either pitch the stuff we have [cause none of it went with what we (I)] had been envisioning, or it change up! And you know me, I'm all about a good DIY project.
I thought Grahm would be all for this cost-effective option... but have you ever tried to explain to your husband what shabby chic means? Good luck with that one, my friends (especially if you're planing to do this to your/his bedroom).
Me: I just really want our bedroom to be all whites and creams.
G: Wait, what? No color at all?
Me: Cream is a color.
G: Well our bedroom furniture is wood, not white.
Me: I know. I'm gonna paint it!
G: What? You can't paint furniture. It will look sooo bad, babe.
Me: No, it won't! I'm going for shabby chic look. I have a vision!
G: Nothing with the word shabby in it sounds like something I want.
Me: It's like a worn/ wear-and-tear kind of look, but super adorable.
G: But our furniture isn't old.
Me: I know, I'm going to age it myself! Our bedroom will be fabulous.
G: Darn you, Pinterest.
Here's the thing about painting. You kinda have to know what you're doing. I was determined (despite my lack of skills with a paintbrush) to prove Grahm (and all men who have a phobia of painted wood, which is most according to my mom) that painted does not mean worse. I mean what did we have to lose, right?
It was real come-and-go there for the first two coats, but by the third I knew they weren't going to be shabby stink like Grahm predicted.
Here are our night stands, originally part of Grahm's bachelor pad.
This is a dresser I've had in my bedroom for years. I think my parents bought it for me when I was a freshmen in high school, so this baby has seen some serious action. Since I'm married now and I don't exactly want my bedroom to be the same teeny bopper room it once was.
Solution? Paint it!
On the down side, I don't think I'll ever get all the paint off my body. I found some on my elbow this morning. No idea how it got there.
Little by little, this place is starting to feel like home!