A few months ago a dealer called and said, “I found some chairs you might like. I thought I might clean them up myself, but if you want them I’ll sell them to you.” At first I couldn’t decide if they were better than my old chairs, or just different. In the end I decided better.
Obviously, they needed to be painted. The dealer thought they should stay light, as did the landscape designer, but the curtains may have a Miles Redd-inspired ruffle and I thought the sweetness of the room needed to be cut a little bit. So I preceded to turn my dining room into a work room and, as Mr. Blandings is not me, he didn’t say a peep. For weeks.
Painting things black I got. The gold detailing is more vexing than the entire wall project. Times ten.
Still. I am determined.