I spent the past week painting the guest room navy. "Peaceful Night," actually, which seemed very fitting for a bedroom. It took four coats. FOUR. One coat of tinted primer and three coats of paint, and by the fourth pass on the fourth wall, I found myself cursing Behr and feeling a little persecuted for forsaking my main man Benjamin Moore.
But it's done. As we were moving the furniture back in, I made a confession to my husband. He was helping me hang this mirror, seen here "before,"
and I said: "You know, this mirror is the real reason I wanted to paint this room navy." (bleached wood on khaki wall = sad beige world. As if it needed explanation).
There was a slightly stunned silence. I had, after all, just painted for three days, culminating in a 2-coat marathon that ended at 1 am.
And then he asked, "How much did this mirror cost?"
And I told him. It was on clearance at Home Goods and cost $29. Except I had a gift card, so I actually didn't pay real money for it.
"And how much did the paint cost?" He asked.
"Well," I said. "Seventy-five dollars. But that's not the point."
And then he looked at me like I had finally, truly, gone insane.
Of course, this is not a simple equation, and in the end I didn't paint an entire room to make a "free" mirror work; it's more that the mirror inspired the next step in the room. We all know that this decorating madness is like dominoes. So I wonder: what was your craziest reason for a major decorating endeavor? Do tell. Please.
And speaking of dominoes, when I finished the room, my four year old walked in and asked, "Mommy, why didn't you paint the ceiling?"