spring break revisited

Remember a couple of months ago when I was bragging about all of my spring break projects? I am happy to report that I have finally completed spring break project #3: the IKEA Malm Dresser in the girls' bedroom.

It took such a long time to complete that my enthusiasm for this project has waned--or that might have something to do with the crooked drawer pulls (see below)--but here's what went down in fifty words or less:

1. Bought IKEA dresser.
2. Painted IKEA dresser (Benjamin Moore, Elephant Tusk, Semi Gloss, three coats after one coat of primer).
3. Bought vintage, mid-century drawer pulls on eBay.
4. "Installed" drawer pulls.
5. Stepped back and looked at crooked drawer pull on top left drawer.
6. Decided not to care about crooked drawer pulls.

Behold the before and after:

cow chairs 2012

Image from apartment therapy

Now that I'm finished buying curtains for the house I've given myself a new project to complete by Christmas: another Eames DCW rescue/renovation. The picture above (and the title of this blog post) is a hint at where I'm going with this one. Stay tuned for updates and before/after looks. At the moment all I can say is that if I never pull another tiny upholstery nail out of a plywood seat, it will be too soon.

at your service

Blame it on the Mad Men craze, but a vintage bar cart--tea trolley, whatever you want to call it--is not easy to find. I've been scouring eBay and local vintage stores for months looking for the right one at the right price, and I almost gave up. Almost, except I love a good deal and a challenge. (And for the record, I've only seen one episode of Mad Men ever.)

A couple weeks ago I saw the cart pictured above listed for $149 on eBay. I watched it. I waited until the last 19 minutes to bid on it (I would have waited until the final two minutes, but it was bath time for the kiddos) and I won it for $171 (plus free shipping!). I saw similar ones listed for $599, so I thought it was a pretty good deal.

On Saturday afternoon it arrived.

This is the package as it appeared on my front doorstep. The seller had warned me that the packaging wouldn't be pretty, but all the parts were there.

This is my assistant who helped assemble the cart in just over an hour. The seller had (thank goodness!) carefully labeled what goes where, so all I needed was an allen wrench and a good assistant to hold the screws.

This is my assistant showing off the final product (while taking it for a test spin around the dining room).

This is another look at the cart. I'm fundamentally against displaying empty liquor bottles; however, we had a few sitting on top of the refrigerator and I wanted to put something on it because I thought it would look even weirder sitting there empty. It happens to be a perfect fit for the corner in the dining room where I tucked it away. I can't wait to roll it out for a party, and I'm psyched to finally have a place to put my W cocktail napkins.

a classic redo

In between visits to the children's museum and story times and the park and Catcher starting preschool and Scout's naps and getting ready for the baby, I carved out a little time for a project that I've been dying to work on since I first spotted a pair of Eames LCW chairs in my in-laws' garage. Below is a restoration recap:

[Not pictured: Alex and me rummaging through a box in the garage where we discovered the chairs].

Step 1: Sand...and sand again. After a trip to the Home Depot for some trusty sandpaper (150 grit) I put my patience to the test as I hand sanded the backs, seats and bases of the chairs. I didn't trust myself to use a hand sander because I was worried I would apply to much pressure and completely destroy the wood, so I sat out on the balcony and sanded the hours away. Pictured above and below are the chairs before...

and after the sanding. 

Step 1 1/2: Find something to make it stick. The shock mounts on the chairs were in surprisingly good condition, but we had to find the right glue to hold everything together. After googling and researching, I found a guy on eBay who sells an epoxy resin that is strong enough for the job. At $14.99 I figured it was a good deal (especially considering that I read somewhere that Herman Miller charges $250/chair to restore the shock mounts). The glue arrived but first the varnishing.

Step 2: Bring on the shine. I used an oil-based clear coat poly (gloss finish) to bring the wood back to life. Here's a look at one of the bases (above) and underside of one seat (below) during the process.

Step 3: Re-assemble. Alex was called in to mix the epoxy and then glue and screw the chairs back together. He tends to be more precise than I do when it comes building furniture.

Step 4: Freshen up. I applied a final layer of gloss to cover any imperfections that may have occurred during assembly.

Step 5: Rearrange your space. I know the lighting is terrible in this picture, but here are the chairs in their final resting spot. I'm really happy with how they turned out, and I'm already looking for my next project. Do you think there's time before the baby gets here next week? 

it's about the chairs

I'm on a little bit of a mid-century modern kick right now with an Eames molded plywood chair restoration on my radar (more about that later) and I just came across an interior by Joseph Foglia Designs where the chairs made the room:

Another Eames classic, the molded plastic armchairs, in a vibrant vintage blue are the perfect anchor to this neutral space. I want that!

Images from Joseph Foglia Designs.

too good to eat

One of the projects I've vowed to attempt--and complete--this holiday season is a gingerbread house. Although Catcher and I will probably devour all the gumdrops and candy canes before the frosting is dry, I can't wait to spend an afternoon crafting our own little masterpiece. While dreaming of the perfect candy dream house, I convinced myself that a modern spin on the classic cottage is the way to go. The only problem, I discovered, is that this would require me to bake my own gingerbread and cut the pieces into precise shapes following a modern gingerbread house "plan." With my patience plus the attention span of a three year-old, I think I'll pick up a kit at the Target this year and save my architectural adventures for another time. Maybe next year I'll be up to speed with these guys.

Images from Grassroots Modern.

not quite a dream

There are only five days left in the year 2010. I'm not starting any new projects this last week of the year--a new job beginning January 4th is enough--so the next few days I'll  write about the things I've neglected during the holiday craze. 

First up: a house to replace the pool house? Still searching for a mid-century gem ripe for a makeover from a couple novices (and dreamers!) like Alex and me, I came across this house and decided it was worth a closer look on a recent Sunday afternoon. Below is my commentary on the good and the bad...

Good: location

Bad: street

Good: front door

Bad: entryway (or lack thereof)

Good: large fireplace

Bad: large fireplace

Good: windows

Bad: carpet

Good: appliances (Viking!)

Bad: wood paneling, folding door into dining room, size

Good: windows, potential

Bad: low ceiling

Good: view of the backyard

Bad: view of the neighbor's chain link face

Overall, my impression of the house came down to the one thing we've decided to focus on if (and when) we're ever able to purchase a new home: location. While the interior is in need of a makeover--although not as serious as the aforementioned pool house--it was the questionable street and the ho-hum neighborhood that had Alex and me make up our minds before walking in the front door. I just have to keep reminding myself "buy the neighborhood, not the house."

the pros

The pool house, with all its minor character flaws and slight aroma of mildew, has some undeniably amazing pros (first of which is location, location, location). Here you see Alex and Catcher embracing the "bringing the outdoors in" concept of mid-century modern architecture. I'll take my morning coffee on the deck overlooking the pool, please...

If you look past the wood paneling (and the pumpkin-colored ceiling), you'll see great floors and classic built-in bookshelves that add to the character of the room. We have plenty to fill the shelves, and I've already come up with a few ideas to make the fireplace more presentable.

The windows and the natural light that shines through them is a treasure (please ignore the crumbling venetian blinds and cesspool in the background).

If I can't convince Alex to go along with my crazy plan of renovating the ugliest house on the block, perhaps the yard can. The house sits on 1.2 acres of playtime bliss--there's no better way to wear out the kids than have them run up and down the hill in between several times a day. 

the cons

Whenever someone asks you if you want to hear the good news first or the bad news, you always pick the bad news, right? Well, here's some of the "bad news" associated with the new house I've begun stalking. From here on out, it shall be referred to as the "pool house," which brings me to its first con: the pool. While I love the idea of having a pool--especially in Charlotte when we have 90+ days of 90+ degree weather--I am not loving the view of the green cesspool from the master bedroom:

However, it might be more sanitary to take a dip in the pool than shower in one of the two full baths (pictured below). My quasi-OCD and very clean self could hardly stand to take a picture of these abominations. Just thinking about the dead cockroach lying belly-up in the master bath is sending chills down my spine.

The telephone hanging from the wall in the master toilet stall is a nice touch, though. "Old people house" is what Alex said when he saw this:

I've never been big on basements. I find them creepy and a little suspect--someone's always hiding something in their basement. While I consider the basement at the pool house a con, it isn't the worst I've seen (or imagined). However, if we have friends over that are taller than 6'2", they'll have to do a lot of ducking. Alex just made the cut. 

Wood paneling...need I say more?

If you aren't too freaked out by the cons of the pool house, check back to see the pros.

my next victim

So this is it: the next house I've decided to stalk. I never realized I had such stalker tendencies until we began this little crusade to sell our starter home. Actually, that's not entirely true. In high school I sort of stalked a guy I had a crush on. I didn't do anything creepy like hide in his car to "surprise" him or anything, I simply memorized his entire class schedule--including daily trips to the locker--for the chance to brush by him in the hallway. So I would say my stalking is of the quiet, non-invasive type. 

Fifteen years later, I've channeled my stalking energy into inanimate objects (such as somebody else's home) and dragged my husband and two kids along for the ride. When the whole box house thing came to a head last week, I revisited my dream of renovating a mid-century home and asked myself, "What would the Novogratzes do?" (see here for more on the inspiring Novogratz family). "Buy the neighborhood, not the house" has been echoing in my head all week, and I've convinced myself that I'm up for the challenge of transforming a diamond in the rough. 

This house would be a dream to renovate. It has great bones, an even better plot of land and is located in one of the best neighborhoods in Charlotte. The cons? It needs way more than a coat of paint on the walls. I'll be posting more pictures later this week (don't worry--we actually had our realtor show us the house, so I wasn't just peering in the windows snapping photos). One thing is for sure: if things were to work out for us, I would have blogging material for the next five years or so...

By the way, I did end up dating that guy I "stalked"  in high school, so maybe there is something to it.

dream home #2

Photos from carolinahome.com

Although this house does not top my list of dream homes, I literally dreamt about it the other night. I first discovered it when I was on my mid-century kick and determined to find a decent/affordable one for us in Charlotte. At the time, the house was under a conditional contract and I sent my husband out for some recon work to see if it was even worth my time daydreaming. He came back with the report that "it needs a lot of work." At that point I pretty much brushed it aside and focused on the box house, but now the contract that was on it has fallen through...and why was I dreaming about it? Here's a peek inside:

I've always been a believer in having a property "speak to me" (not speak to me in the sense that I fall for all that aura of the house or spiritual stuff, but speaking to me because I believe I see something that others do not). Although I have not seen this house in person, there is something about it that speaks to me. Perhaps it's all the windows and exposed beams that I find so appealing...

I'm also fond of the apparent openness of the space. Some of the details are less than desirable--is that wood paneling I see--but I'm curious enough to check out the space in person (just to make sure I haven't made up my mind before looking at more than one house on the market).

I'm not in love with this kitchen situation, but part of me likes the idea of having a house that needs a little bit of work where you can inject your own personality into it. Perhaps it's because I've never lived in anything close to resembling new construction (like the box house) that the "fixer-upper" is somewhat appealing to me. Of course, dreaming about remodeling and actually doing it are two completely different things. Let's see how I feel if and when I see the house in person and not just in my dream where anything is possible.

party crashers

My husband and I have a blast crashing parties. We did it before Vince Vaughan and Owen Wilson made it cool in Wedding Crashers, and it's one of our great bonding experiences. We joke that if there's free food and free booze we'll be there. It's been a while since our last crash, but tonight an opportunity fell into our laps, and we were able to bring our two year-old son along for the ride (my only regret is that my pregnant self was not able to partake in the boozing side of crashing).

While imagining our next home, I've been stalking two modern Charlotte websites. Recently one of the sites began teasing a mid-century modern jewel that was about to hit the market, so I've been keeping tabs on it. Tonight there was an open house: free food, cocktails and the chance to snoop around someone else's house.

Images from Mike Carroll Photography

While the 4,300 square foot home is ridiculously out of our price range (and almost twice the size of the box house I've been obsessing over) the open house did not disappoint. A brilliant showcase of everything you'd hope for in a mid-century home, the house features vaulted ceilings, post and beam construction, Nelson lighting and incredible walls of windows. The reason I was eager to see the house is not because I'm a total snoop and weirdo but because it's so different from most of the architecture in Charlotte. Besides, owning a mid-century home is another dream of mine--I'll call it Plan B in case things don't work out with the aforementioned box house.

On a side note: I've often ridiculed Americans and their incessant need to have everything bigger, but the 1,500 square foot master suite, which includes the above gallery, wouldn't be a bad place to wake up every morning. Did I mention 1,500 square feet is bigger than the house I live in now?