All of my “Designed to Sell” episodes tell me to neutralize my décor, but I’m afraid I just did the opposite. After our textured ceiling was de-asbestosified and our gorgeous hardwood floors installed, it was painting time.
I chose a rich chocolate brown for my laundry room turned office. I parked the kids in front of the tv and the Wii console for the next 6 hours and opened my $60 gallon of paint (Benjamin Moore’s AURA line—truly the best paint I’ve ever used). I stirred the yummy chocolate colored paint. It looked just like the chocloate stream in Willy Wonka.
I had spent 2.5 hours taping around the 6 windows and doors and 8 electrical outlets (in a tiny 9x12 room!), when I finally was able to start cutting in with actual paint on my brush. I wanted to get finished before Tom got home from work, b/c we have wildly different painting personalities, and mine seems to stress him out. I like to tape her up and slather on the paint. He likes to paint slowly and carefully with lots of grunts and groans and little nuggets of wisdom like “Anna, it’s a lot easier to get no paint on the new floor than to clean it up later.” Thanks, Sherlock. Anyway, I wanted no comments from the peanut gallery as I tackled my new room.
After 2.5 more hours, the cutting in was complete, and Molly had taken a break from the tv long enough to paint her initial on one wall—a family tradition. I tensed up seeing my 6 year old brandishing a dripping paintbrush over our expensive new floors much in the same way Tom must feel watching me paint.
The cutting-in finished, I ate a truffle and admired my handiwork. Before my eyes, things began to change. As it dried, the paint went from Milk Chocolate, to Semi-sweet, to Special Dark to … Coffee? It dried to the darkest brown I’ve ever seen. You may ask what color I was using. I hesitate to tell you that the color was “French Press”-- an obvious coffee reference. But I can’t be the first one who has been screwed by faulty paint names. I just figured it was a bad name for creamy milk chocolate paint. After all, I learned the hard way there ain’t nothing delicate about Delicate Pink. Soooooo, knowing full well that my paint had a coffee name, I hoped for the best.
Now with a striped room with coffee-colored edges and a big “M” on in the middle, there was no turning back. I started rolling like a madwoman and soon had the world’s darkest office.
Molly’s verdict, “dark and depressing.” Tom diplomatically said, “It’s dramatic” and wisely refrained from reminding me of his choice, the innocuous light brown “Lodge.” The cleaning lady walked through and pronounced, “Miss Anna, for me, I like the lighter colors.” No comments from Jake or Shadow. So, from now on as I write this blog, I’ll be in my mocha paradise. Don’t be surprised if the blog takes a more “dramatic” turn given the new setting.
I chose a rich chocolate brown for my laundry room turned office. I parked the kids in front of the tv and the Wii console for the next 6 hours and opened my $60 gallon of paint (Benjamin Moore’s AURA line—truly the best paint I’ve ever used). I stirred the yummy chocolate colored paint. It looked just like the chocloate stream in Willy Wonka.
I had spent 2.5 hours taping around the 6 windows and doors and 8 electrical outlets (in a tiny 9x12 room!), when I finally was able to start cutting in with actual paint on my brush. I wanted to get finished before Tom got home from work, b/c we have wildly different painting personalities, and mine seems to stress him out. I like to tape her up and slather on the paint. He likes to paint slowly and carefully with lots of grunts and groans and little nuggets of wisdom like “Anna, it’s a lot easier to get no paint on the new floor than to clean it up later.” Thanks, Sherlock. Anyway, I wanted no comments from the peanut gallery as I tackled my new room.
After 2.5 more hours, the cutting in was complete, and Molly had taken a break from the tv long enough to paint her initial on one wall—a family tradition. I tensed up seeing my 6 year old brandishing a dripping paintbrush over our expensive new floors much in the same way Tom must feel watching me paint.
The cutting-in finished, I ate a truffle and admired my handiwork. Before my eyes, things began to change. As it dried, the paint went from Milk Chocolate, to Semi-sweet, to Special Dark to … Coffee? It dried to the darkest brown I’ve ever seen. You may ask what color I was using. I hesitate to tell you that the color was “French Press”-- an obvious coffee reference. But I can’t be the first one who has been screwed by faulty paint names. I just figured it was a bad name for creamy milk chocolate paint. After all, I learned the hard way there ain’t nothing delicate about Delicate Pink. Soooooo, knowing full well that my paint had a coffee name, I hoped for the best.
Now with a striped room with coffee-colored edges and a big “M” on in the middle, there was no turning back. I started rolling like a madwoman and soon had the world’s darkest office.
Molly’s verdict, “dark and depressing.” Tom diplomatically said, “It’s dramatic” and wisely refrained from reminding me of his choice, the innocuous light brown “Lodge.” The cleaning lady walked through and pronounced, “Miss Anna, for me, I like the lighter colors.” No comments from Jake or Shadow. So, from now on as I write this blog, I’ll be in my mocha paradise. Don’t be surprised if the blog takes a more “dramatic” turn given the new setting.
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