Speaking of “done” …
I live in a house that is turning 100 years old this year.
It’s full of beautiful woodwork that escaped the trim painting craze of the 1960s, or whenever it was people decided to commit crimes against wood. I say the ‘60s because I’ve taken tours of old houses where they talk about the “cover up the old stuff” things that were done in the name of modernization of older American homes.
It hasn’t really stopped. Supposedly people love Chicago brick, this mottled brown and burgundy mix used all over the city for decades, but I see people painting them white. And by people, I mean corporate developers. They are painting these houses a chalky white color and putting in windows with black grid frames. I can’t totally blame them. There are about five colors you can use next to that brick. Still, though.
Anyway, I’m only the fourth owner, which is kind of rare. The first owner was the family that built it. The husband/father who lived here had a brother who built the house next door, too, and all of the houses that surround me for about 5 blocks. The houses are mirror images of one another in layout and the families shared the back yard — the old fence joining the yards is there. The second owner was a family, too. They lived here for about 50 years. Then the people who sold it to me lived here for somewhere around 15 years. So here I am, the fourth owner.
This one time my daughter conked her elbow on one of the ceramic towel rod mounts and cracked it right off the wall. Inside it were newspapers from 1925 filling the space between that tile and the wall where the rest of the tiles were flush.
Anyway, I digress.
The messy goo that removes the paint with old paint stuck to it
But, like, why?
First, it’s messy. Gooey, sticky, gross. Weird hobby.
As you can see here — this is the second peel of about 8 layers of varnish, oil-based paint, and latex paint.
One reason I do this is that my mom used to do this to furniture all the time and taught me the basics. It was cool to see a piece of furniture go from “why would you buy that” to wow, that’s beautiful.
The first few times I did this myself, I did a laughably terrible job. But after a while I was able to graduate to desks, windows, doors, tables… most kinds of furniture.
She also taught me all the basics of antiques. How to find them, what to pay, how to know if a piece is repairable or can be used again, and if so, for what. Pro tip: the veneer /plywood furniture from the midcentury is absolute junk unless it can be deep cleaned. I’ve only found one piece that worked out as useful and restorable, a British bar from the 40s. Beware linoleum, too.
The wood under the paint. I mean, not to brag or anything, but I was totally right.
I do this because I need something in my life that I could look at when it was done, and say, I made that happen and it is definitely done. I pulled all that paint off of that wood and now it can just be its own beautiful self again.
All by myself. I can walk by that every day and feel like I accomplished a thing.
Look at that wood!
I’ve spent my whole adult life working at a keyboard and screen. Everything I make is fungible, temporary, and will likely be replaced sooner than I’ll need to change a lightbulb in my house.
This door is really a test run of the new paint stripper product I bought for the stairs, my next project (someone painted them a poop color that I’m sure they thought was “caramel”). I saw this stuff on Instagram — someone in England was using it and if there’s any place where there is OLD paint on top of much older wood than a measly 100 years, it’s Britain. It works beautifully.
