Eighteen months after living in the house, we finally got around to buying a dining room table (another CraigsList find, by the way). We felt accomplished having finally filled the room with something besides the constantly growing tumbleweed of cat fur (seriously, how does something so small generate so much fur?!). Well, then the table sat empty, void of any decor, for another four months. Then came the saddest looking three, black candlesticks you’ve ever seen. Leaving the table empty was probably a better looking option, honestly. I decided what the three candles needed were more friends and possibly a little spray paint to add some interest to their dull, black look.
Knowing I was going to spray everything anyway, I began the hunt for interesting shaped candlesticks, not caring what the color was. So, of course that led to picking out some of the ugliest candlesticks known to mankind.
Well, maybe second to these… honey, you’re going to regret this decision someday.
Aaaand now for the runner-up…
Look at those things. They look like they belong in some tacky, safari party.
Quick, get me my spray paint. Of course we used our go-to color, Rust-o-leum Heirloom White.
First coat (and I actually helped this time… before you argue, Chris, I’m not yet claiming to have sprayed it 100%).
Ah, much better.
Then we flipped them over to do the second coat.
So, we may have skipped the priming step, which turned out to be a mistake. The spray paint had a hard time sticking to some of the glossier candlesticks and ended up dripping a little. Not a huge deal. We just sanded out the drips with a sanding block and went on with the next round of coats.
We finished with one final third coat and voilah, no more weird-tribal candlesticks.
I decided the candlesticks looked too plain and “new” and by now, I’m sure you’ve figured out the new, fresh out of the box look doesn’t really match the rest of our decor. These babies needed a little distressing! You know I always love a good reason to bust out my sander. After a few minutes of distressing all the edges and detailed trim, the project was complete.
Now…. if we could just fill up those empty walls…
This may surprise some of you, but most of the projects we do together aren’t by choice. Usually, Julie announces she doesn’t need my help, which is really just a tact to get me to let her buy something we don’t need. “Don’t worry, I can do this myself!” she always says. The majority of the time, though, she gets part of the way into something and then comes running to me because it’s “not working” or something to that effect. This is one of those times.
We bought our dining room table in the fall, so it was initially decorated with some really cool Halloween stuff, which I wanted to leave out all year (Julie never lets me get my way). Eventually, we had to find a permanent solution. Julie found some candlesticks from… wherever… and I assumed we now had table decorations. I was wrong.
This table is something we have literally used twice, so I can say with confidence that it’s something I had little (read: no) interest in. Be that as it may, I was ultimately dragged to Garden Ridge in search of more candlesticks. Shopping with Julie is something that can really only be described as an undertaking, but I eventually got her out of the store with most of my savings intact. Once we got home, though, I realized the real fun was about to begin as Julie said the six words I fear most: “We need to spray paint these.”
Within five minutes of setting up, something went wrong and Julie came running for help. It turns out that the paint cans were putting out a dark, uneven, and textured spray pattern. I cleaned the nozzle and shook the cans a little longer and all seemed well until, of course, the paint started running. For something so small, these candlesticks were really getting on my nerves. Finally, over the course of several days and several coats, we managed to get an even coat to stick… which, of course, Julie then wanted to sand off (“distressing”, she calls it).
I’m just ready for Halloween again.
P.S. Did you spot our little ball of fur? Hint: it’s not Colonel Mustard.