Yesterday I showed you how I finally painted a piece of furniture turquoise (what a weird life ambition), but I admitted it got a makeunder soon after. What happened? I loved the strips of exposed wood at first, but a day later I realized that in the basement, where it will live, things are already mismatched and my goal has been to pull together a cohesive look (I got halfway there before I left for Hungary). A crazy chair needs a stark space. The crazy basement, on the other hand, needed a bright, but paired back chair. So away went the ziggy zags.
I sanded the edges of the stripes until I couldn't feel them (and then primed and sprayed) but that was the lazy gal's way. You can still see the pattern ever so slightly. Le sigh. I shouldn't have rushed. I should have sanded right down to the wood. Ah well, the basement is dim and I can barely tell in the brightest light. But here's the chair, looking simple but good. The paint still shows the wood grain's texture and the little dints and dings look sweet, like there's a story hiding under the cheery, modern hue. I am perfectly content now. I love this chair.
For a bit of variety, I snapped this set of after photos outside (how avante garde, lol):
For some reason, I really love dints and dings covered in a creamy coat of paint. Old mixed with new.
Our neighbourhood cat, who will sit on the exterior ledge of the dining room window, staring at us eating dinner and meowing for us to come out and play, approved. (Seriously, he meows until we go out onto the patio and then proceeds to try to bite us. Weirdo. Maybe his opinion doesn't count? Wonder if he misses me)
P.S. We think the cat might really be a human in cat clothes. He stands on his hind legs and stares at us, as if trying to tell us something. Or maybe I watched too much Sabrina the Teenage Witch . . .