You're a heartbreaker,
Dream maker,
Love taker,
Don't you mess around with me.
~Pat Benetar
Years ago, I welcomed into my home my grandmother's dining room set. It's standout qualities were a well made solid wood physique. It's eye averting flaw was it's banana yellow finish. Six years later, I set out to help find it some dignity with a can of spray paint and a staple gun.
I chose a dark-almost-black-green color. Light sanding (that got lighter and lighter with each chair) and many paint fumes later they were finally finished. Some cheap heavy fabric from Joann's, a staple gun, and a can of Scotch Guard covered the yellow cushions that, by this point in the game, sported a thick layer of glitter glue and petrified yogurt (okay -- and some urine).
Now, I should back up and tell you that green and I have a past. I painted an entryway once in a promising historic collection color called Providence Olive. Instead of the warm sage-y feel it was supposed to give the room, it managed to not only turn kelly green at night, but turn it's cream trim color partner from a never-fail color to an ugly bright garish yellow. Not only did it mess up on it's own, but it didn't play well with others. I had to repaint the entire room and vowed never to hire the likes of any green in my home ever again.
How soon we go soft.
I was so pleased with the green color of my chairs. They looked great outside being painted. They looked great in the garage drying. They looked . . . not so great with the fabric. But, I ignored this in true DIY "I'm almost done with the project so I'm going to ignore that it looks like crap" fashion. You know you've been there.
When I finally brought my first completed chair into the breakfast room and ploped it down to admire it, I actually heard that "ree -- ree -- ree!!" horror movie music blare through the kitchen. It had gone from this not so bad chair in the daylight.
To this monstrosity at night under the lights.
In case you can't tell by the picture, it looks like a chair about to be attached to a Mardi Gras float.
Oh well. Back to the paint store for some cans of BLACK, please. Black is slimming anyway.
