I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough, but be warned: my new room is not for the faint of heart. You see, I have this problem of never letting anything go to waste on account of having little disposable income.
The Hub bought a job lot of matt paint – something like 30 litres for £15, two colours: fuchsia and honeysuckle. I decided the fuchsia was too dark and opted for the honeysuckle.
I needed gloss for the woodwork and I needed a fair bit because I had five pieces of furniture, none of which matched. Aldi had paint on sale, but not much choice. I thought I could mix white and bright yellow and make pastel yellow. There’s a reason I’m not paid to think.
I put on my painting pyjamas, prepped the room, and mixed those suckers. Did you know that white gloss and bright yellow gloss mixed together make bright yellow gloss? Me neither; but they do.
The Hub was ill in bed; I was pyjama-ed up, spent up and raring to go, so I went. I figured that if I didn’t like it, it could act as an undercoat for the time when I could afford to buy pastel yellow gloss. But you know what? I like it. Actually, I love it. It’s, um, bright, but so cheerful.
If you come to stay, you’ll be using this room so you’d better learn to love it, too. But bring a sleeping mask.
I did have one little problem. After emptying a tray of four tubs of honeysuckle, I noticed a few white patches where I’d missed spots. I pulled a tub from the next tray in the shed and daubed over the patches. It was only once it dried that I realised that the contents of tub no. 5 were a slightly different colour – noticeable, but only if the sunlight comes in at a certain angle.
I was bored with painting by this time so, instead of re-doing the whole room, I placed pictures and furniture in strategic positions and voilà! One room painted one colour. Honest.
You’ll see a South African table cloth in this next photo, used as a picture. That’s where the biggest number five daub is. I think the blue breaks up the blinding luminosity rather well (and I already had it in).
The room cost no more than £20 to re-do, if I include the curtains (charity shop: £1.75), lamp shade (charity shop: £1.99) and cushions (car boot sale: 40p).
What do you expect of a woman who once papered a bedroom with stickyback plastic? Class? You haven’t been here long, have you?
The carpet is fourteen years old and has been through two teenage boys so I need a rug until I can replace it. Anyone got an old rug covering their compost heap? You know I’ll give it a good home. But it needs to be a tasteful colour, like orange. I have my standards.