Fail It Yourself

A How-Not-To How To

[failityourself]

Rewriting on the Wall

Remember this Fail It Yourself?

When I painted this canvas blue, it was the first time I’d ever bought a canvas, brushes, or paint. I’ve bought paint a few more times since, including spray paint, which I swore before buying this canvas that I’d never use again (a vow that I have broken time after time). Once, I bought gray spray paint to refresh a lamp that I bought at Goodwill, and one evening, for no particular reason, I decided to paint this canvas gray with the leftover spray paint. Then I wound some twine around it and stuck some paper leaves on the twine.

It looked like this.

I don’t remember when I did this, and I don’t remember how long it stayed. I never really loved it. It eventually came down, and I replaced it with some frames that I spray painted black (with paint left over from this project). At this point, I’m a pro at finding new uses for old paint, and it’s a wonder that I ever buy anything at all. You have no idea how many things in this house are the exact same color blue as my dresser. And when I finally refinish my craigslist-purchased campaign desk, it will most likely be stained the exact same color as my coffee table. Because this has all happened before and will happen again, you know.

Moving on, though...

I’ve never been a fan of word-based wall art. I don’t know why, but I suspect that it has something to do with it rarely saying what I want it to tell me. The solution to this is, of course, to Fail It Yourself. So when a particular quote from a particular TV show pops into my head while I am simultaneously thinking about what to do with my displaced gray canvas, I toss my distaste for wordy wall stuff out the window. After all, writing is rewriting, and it’s time to revise this canvas (again).

So, I mobilize the materials that I have on hand. Paper, a printer, a razor, a brush, and paint. I already have many shades of paint from which to choose, and I probably decide to go with yellow because I haven’t used it for a second project yet.

I use Gimp to figure out how big I want my letters to be (and what font), then print out those letters in Word. Then I cut them out, and then I tape them together into one big stencil.

At this point, I should stop. I should go buy poster board, or vellum, and probably some spray adhesive, and actually make this, like, a legitimate stencil. But I don’t. I could say I’m impatient, and I could say I’m lazy. Either way, half-assing it is just how I roll.

So I paint with the yellow paint, and it’s a little sloppy, but I neaten it up before it dries and it’s not too bad. But I don’t love the color. It’s too much…yellow. It’s not enough…neon.

To Michaels! I finally make a new purchase to complete this project: neon acrylic paint. After tax, we’re talking $0.75, which is an awesome price because my change is perfectly shaped for the laundry machine.

When I get home, I notice how much bigger the tube of neon yellow paint is than the other tube of yellow paint. I inspect the other differences to find out why, and notice that the yellow paint is fabric paint. This would make sense, since I bought it to make my mother hand-painted dish towels for her birthday. Also, it’s clearly evident from the label. Since I’m literate and ostensibly can read labels, I probably shouldn't make the same mistake twice. But I do. Ka is a wheel.

Anyway, I continue undeterred and paint over the fabric-paint yellow with the neon yellow. It takes four coats before I’m happy with the opacity of the neon. And then I rearrange the wire on the back, consult apartmenttherapy.com to remind myself how high to hang the thing (at least I've figured that out over the last two years), measure the wall, and find out that there’s already a hole from a previous picture-hanging project precisely where I want to hang it. Joy!

And with no further ado, the twice-revised canvas that just won’t quit…

Because a house is not a home until there’s a Deadwood quote on the wall. In neon yellow.

[failityourself]

Off the Coast

I’ve wanted to paint on dishes for a couple of months now, but every time I look into it, I can only find paint that can’t come into contact with food. What’s the point of that? But whatevs. I decide that I’m going to make coasters for my coffee table, and I’m going to paint ceramics to do it. I go to Michaels and find blank ceramic squares, a roll of cork with adhesive backing, and, of course, paint.

Michael’s has a whole section of enamel paint, and I pick out a navy blue color and read the directions on the back. It says something about putting it in the oven to cure, which is totally cool, and while I’m reading this I also notice a really hot turquoise on the shelf and pick that up too. I also find a honeycomb rubber stamp and pick that up because I’m obsessed with bees and stamps. Also, I saw this tutorial online that shows you how to paint the enamel paint onto the stamp, then stamp the ceramic, so picking out a stamp was my plan all along. Because I can’t paint. I guess I forgot to mention that.

I am super excited to get started on this project as soon as I get home. I should probably wait and do it another day because I have to bake these things after I paint them and it's already 10pm, but I don’t wait. I start with the turquoise.

And I cannot get the paint to stick to the ceramic tiles. It sticks to the rubber stamp like, well, I don’t know, like I painted it onto the rubber stamp. The stamp sticks to the ceramic like glue every time, and then leaves almost no paint behind. I turn off my ceiling fan, thinking that it’s drying too fast. I work as quickly as I can, desperate to get a turquoise honeycomb pattern onto a square of ceramic, any square of ceramic! But I cannot. I end up with a couple of tiles that sort of have a shadow of the pattern on them, so I try to freehand the honeycomb cells a little bit. I am not very successful with this. Because I cannot paint.

So I switch to stripes, and I do a few stripes with the turquoise, and I decide to throw a navy stripe in there all sassy and diagonal-like. This is where I discover that the navy paint is totally unlike the turquoise paint. It’s much thinner and slicker, and it takes several coats to get my diagonal stripe to cover the turquoise stripes.

This gets me thinking: Maybe the navy paint will work on the stamp? I try the navy with the honeycomb stamp, and I am relatively successful with this. Relative success is marked by the fact that I’m not moaning, “why, why, why,” every time I peel the stamp off a ceramic tile and am only muttering, “whatever,” instead.

I pick out maybe seven of these things that don’t anger me too completely and decide that I’m going to throw away the rest. Then, I grab the closest tube of paint to remind myself of the rules for the whole oven part. 

This tube of paint says nothing about curing it in the oven.

This tube of paint is not enamel paint.

And there you go. 

So now it's 2am and I'm practically weeping, but whatever. I put the navy ones in the oven and just let the turquoise ones air dry.

[failityourself]

Let's Table the Blog

So, remember how I said my resolution was to update the blog for longer than the first three months of the year? Well, I have succeeded. I am updating the blog for the first time five (nearly six) months into the year. Bam. That, kids, is the smell of sweet success. And Danish oil.

Introducing a random project from the recent past: the bloody table.

Once upon a time, I made a short horror film with some friends on a shoestring budget, and we purchased a coffee table for our set at a thrift shop. Then we dumped fake blood on it. A lot of fake blood. Then we left the set up in the garage for a couple months. Then, one crazy day, I decided to take the bloody table home with me.

Fail #1: I forgot to take a photo of the table covered in blood.

I wiped all the blood off with a bucket of water and a—now ruined—dish sponge. The table then spent a few months chilling in my living room sofa loveseat corner. I put off refinishing the table for a while partly because I knew I’d mess it up and partly because I liked putting my feet on it without feeling guilty. Finally, however, events conspired to thrust me into refinishing action.

This is what it looks like when you spill pure acetone on your bloodstained thrift-store coffee table while you are trying to remove your gel manicure.

So, I have this electric sander that requires tiny little pads of sandpaper with a Velcro backing. They can only be purchased at Sears, and the last time I tried to find them they only had a fine grit version. But whatever, right? That’s what elbow grease is for! I bought a sanding block and some truly gritty paper at Home Depot and got started sanding.

Then I continued sanding. For about eight hours. I got all the old stain off (and most of the blood). Then I went back into the apartment and navigated to Sears.com with my poor stiff, bleeding, throbbing fingers and ordered the sanding pads for my electric sander. I got the variety pack. As god is my witness, I’ll never go without sandpaper for my electric sander again.

This is the table sans stain, but avec some blood stains, which I did not really photograph, but I’m being honest about anyway.

Then I sanded some more. It was better with the electric sander. But I couldn’t get the last of the blood stains out. I guess I should have cared, but two Audible books on one project is kind of my limit, so I called it quits while I was still sane.

At this point, I brought the table back inside and kept using it bare for a week or two. This should have ended in disaster, truly, but it didn’t. I didn’t spill anything on it or anything! And, anyway, I needed time to call my dad and ask him what to stain it with. Dad survey says: Danish oil.

Danish oil is not really oil, I don’t think, and I sorta doubt it’s Danish, but that’s not the point. It soaks into the wood and stains, seals, and protects all in one step, and all in one step is definitely kid approved.

It was, indeed, easy to do. The directions said to wipe it on, let it soak for 30 minutes, wipe it off, then repeat. “Easy,” I thought. “I’ll have it done in an hour,” which would have been great, because the sun was already setting when I did this math. So, pretty obviously, I forgot to take into account how long it would take to wipe the stain on with a paint brush. You can’t exactly start staining and just call it quits in the middle, so this was yet another project in which my headlamp played a major role.

People like to ask what we ever did without our smartphones, and while I see what they’re saying, I regularly state that I have no idea how I ever lived without my headlamp. I went camping recently with an outdoorsy friend of mine who admitted to not owning a headlamp, and I was so shocked and dismayed that I almost retreated to my tent and ate cold s’mores by myself in the wan but comforting light of my headlamp. I thought better of it, though, and loaned her my spare instead. Because yes, I own two.

So, hours after dark, I wiped off the final layer of stain and carried the table into the house, where it stunk the whole place up.

I kinda like it. Next up: coasters.

[failityourself]

I am a photography genius. Or not.

My resolutions for Fail It Yourself 2014:

Update the blog for more than the first 3 months of the year

Take better photos

So, my second objective required a better camera (because what are skills when compared to consumer goods) and probably a tripod. Well, here's the thing. I had a better camera, but one day the lens got stuck. It's basically been sitting in my desk drawer all broken and sad for a year. When I decided I needed a new one, though, out it came! I took it to a repair shop like the thrifty smart person that I am, but they basically told me that the camera was trash. 

So.

I left the shop, went back out to my car, looked at my busted camera, and decided on the spot to try all the repairs I'd been too chicken to try before I knew the camera was trash. To begin my repairs, I simply smacked the thing on the dash until the lens just came unstuck, and the camera sat there in my palm all like, "what? I've been ready."

I did have to follow this up by taking off the back of the camera and blowing around in there with some canned air because the smacking it around didn't fix it for very long, but still. Sometimes violence (visited upon the inanimate and out of warranty) is the answer. 

And now...I need to buy a book on photography. Because people I need help.

[failityourself]

My Readers have spoken! And sent demanding cards!

Very well. You shall have more Fail It Yourself, my dears.

[failityourself]

Before. Then, after.

[failityourself]

Getting a wax

So the next thing one does after using Annie Sloan Chalk Paint is try out the Annie Sloan wax.

By the time my dresser is stripped and my paint is dry, I'm at work on a Monday, but I plan to wax my dresser after work. I have no experience with this, so while at work, I watch the online tutorial again. And then I'm like, oh crap. She says there's no need to worry about mistakes with the dark wax as long as you used the clear wax first. And of course, Cheapskate McCornercutter didn't buy the clear wax.

But seriously $30 for INVISIBLE wax???

So I'm like, no I'm drawing the line folks. If this was available at Home Depot, I might spend the dough. But I am NOT driving back to Agoura Hills. Additionally, store hours are probably such that I can't make it back until next weekend and I'm sorry, but my sweaters and tank tops REALLY need to be in that new dresser, like ASAP.

So. To google we go! And what do you know, but tons of other FIY-ers (they call themselves DIY-ers, but I KNOW the fail it some of the time) have found substitutes for Annie Sloan products. Are they as user friendly? Are they as stylish? No, probably not. But one of these substitutes I learn about is one kind of clear wax for another kind of clear wax, so...

Minwax. $9.98 at Home Depot.

So I pick this up on the way home. And upon my arrival at home, I scrape some of it out into a paper plate, mash it around until it's a little warmed up, then get it on my cheap-o brush.

It's a little crumbly, but whatever.

So I do just like in the video. I swirl it onto my dresser in small chunks. Then I take a cloth and buff it off. I do this until it is done.

Also, I listen to Watership Down on Audible. I highly recommend that you read it. You will have no idea how interesting talking bunnies are until you do.

Then I go straight into the dark wax by Annie Sloan. And let me tell you. It is MUCH softer than the Minwax.

SOFT wax. Make no mistake. But, can you see how the clear wax made the top all shiny? You can kinda see the reflection of the brush in the wax. That's how I know it worked just fine.

And I smear the dark wax all around with the brush, then try to wipe it off with my rag. This is not that easy, but I started with a small area and just kind of tried to ease into it.

So here's one side and one drawer done. I don't think the results are so bad, right?

So after I smudge up the entire thing and buff it to a nice shine, I realize that I still have to find drawer pulls.

Drawer pulls seem like they should be cheap. They're not. In the same antique market where I bought the paint, I wandered around trying to find crystal or glass knobs for cheap. I found them, but not for cheap. And hardware stores are not cheap either. I could find some cheap stuff online. But then I'd have to wait. And my sweaters and my tank tops just can't do that. (Neither can I, as you know.)

I had happened across some at Michael's randomly a few weeks before, so I go back to see if they'd work.

They turn out to be ok, and only cost $2 a piece. So. I buy eight. And of course I use my 40% off one item coupon and save a whopping $.80 off of a $16 purchase (before tax).

THEN I have to buy drill bits for my awesome drill, which I love, but have never used until now. And I sign up for some random Sears rewards program just so I can get these drill bits for $14 instead of $25.

Ooooooh. Pretty!

So I decide to put the holes for the pulls more or less where the old holes were, except now there's only one instead of two. And I attach the pulls!

And here it is!

I'm going to say here that I love my color choices, I love the wax. I don't love the pulls. They are going to have to be replaced someday.

Also. I should eventually learn how to take good photos. But that is like this whole other thing that I can't even think about right now. So for the meantime...imagine this dresser as this awesome piece of furniture that you want so bad you're willing to Fail It Yourself just to have it!

Then, start at square one. There's a patient way...or an ambitious way. Curblist or Craigslist, people.

[failityourself]

Dresser Dressing

So the wood looks really great, and I'm super pumped about that. EXCEPT that the top of the dresser is a little weird. Someone once upon a time attached the piece of wood to the top that was not finished on the sides, then painted those rough edges. They basically acted like a sponge and soaked up all this paint. Also, they are rough and ugly. This is disappointing.

So I think about it for, like, a second. I decide that since the top is kinda funky, I'm not going to stain the dresser. I'm going to paint it. Also, I've been wanting to use this Annie Sloan Chalk Paint stuff that I've read so much about.

Lots of people who paint furniture like this stuff, and I've seen it on the internet, so I'm like, yeah, I'll do that. I check out her website and realize that I probably didn't need to strip the dresser at all if I was just going to paint it, because she says her paint is formulated to just go over anything without sanding or priming.

So I feel like a dummy, but also I don't. I now know how to strip furniture, and that's worth something, right?

Also now the dresser is ready for that wood filler. There are tons of gouges and stuff, especially in that problematic top piece, so I spend a little while filling in cracks and the drill holes from the original handles.

That is a gouge, right?

Goodbye gouge!

So while this dries I'm going to go get some paint. But a little more looking around on this Chalk Paint website and I realize that this stuff isn't available at Home Depot. The closest location is in Agoura Hills.

So I'm like, oh, ok. That's about 45 minutes away with no traffic. Which is kind of far for paint. But I've sort of decided that I have to have it. So I drive to Agoura Hills.

I drive to Agoura Hills where there's this little cluster of antique shops and I find the stall in the shop where this stuff is sold and HOLY CRAP IS IT EXPENSIVE, OR WHAT? $40 for a quart? Seriously? And then the wax you have to buy to go with it is another $30, like for real?

But at this point, I've already made the drive. So I have no choice. I buy a quart of Chalk Paint in Provence, and then a sample size of Graphite. And I buy a can of the dark wax. It comes to nearly $90. Remember how I said failing it yourself is not thrifty? Yeah. Still true.

So then I go home with my ridiculous paint, and the wood filler is dry and all ready to go. So I sand the thing down a little with my cordless sander. Because yes, I actually own power tools!!

And so I get to painting and I get most of the thing done before it gets dark. But not all of it. And I'm not patient. So I just go get my headlamp and keep going. Also, what did I ever do without a headlamp? It's the best thing ever!

I even break out my tiny paint brush and do the detaily bits where the top meets the body of the dresser.

And this time it stays outside to dry overnight. And I only wake up five times to make sure it's not raining because I'm only a little crazy.

[failityourself]

The Stripper Vs. The Dresser

Step one. Find a super cheap dresser. This can be done the patient way, or the ambitious way. The patient way means casually perusing garage sales as you see them and keeping your eyes peeled for abandoned furniture.

Wait. If forgot a step. The first step is to do the apartmenttherapy.com January cure. The most important part of the January cure is the part where you sit in a chair and space out for ten minutes until you can fully realize your place's potential. I did this and realized that my tiny apartment could feel significantly less tiny by rearranging my furniture, and shockingly, that my house could accommodate an actual dresser. Which means I can get rid of the plastic one I'm hiding in my closet.

THEN you choose either method to find a dresser. You might have noticed--I'm not a patient person. So I took the ambitious route and scoured the internet (specifically the part called craigslist.org) for cheap non-ikea furniture. It did not take long before I found this little gem for $20.

In case you're curious, the dresser did not fit neatly into my Korean subcompact. Luckily, it was both budget friendly and located right here in the valley. So I could just kind of tie my trunk shut, sort of, and head home with my loot.

So THEN as you might imagine, I spent plenty of time stressing. Because I while I'm happy to admit that I don't know what I'm doing, admission of this fact does not in any way lessen its factuality. So I stress.

I buy this book on refinishing furniture on my tablet that is TERRIBLE, and I would tell you what one it is but I feel kinda bad doing that because it's clearly published by the author and that would not be cool of me. But it basically told me that I need to use eight kinds of stripper and thirteen kinds of sandpaper. And THEN I have to use twenty more kinds of sandpaper in between layers of stain. Although, maybe I counted some steps twice because the author described the process in this crazy circular way that made my head spin.

Luckily, I'm not patient. So I don't wait to figure it out so much. I just go to Home Depot. Can you believe there's a Home Depot in North Hollywood? I didn't even have to go to Burbank. I don't know how I'd missed this fact for so long. But I did.

The lovely gentleman at Home Depot who saw me wandering around the paint section with the I-want-to-know-what-I'm-doing-but-I-don't look on my face directed me to a jug of stripper that isn't flammable or too stinky and appears to take off both paint and varnish. I'm pretty sure my book told me I'd need different strippers depending on the type of finish, but the product says it does it all, so I ignore the book. 

Here's the part of the Home Depot with all the wood fillers. This is the part where I go, holy crap, there are that many types of wood fillers??

I bought wood filler (because this dresser has been beat to hell) and rags and brushes and scrapers and a big drop cloth (of course) and gloves and sand paper and I don't even know what else.

At this point, I've spent three times the cost of the dresser on all the stuff at Home Depot just to get the old paint off. I haven't even thought about what I'm going to need to buy to put new stuff on it again.

NOTE: Failing It Yourself is NOT the thrifty option. Don't fool yourself.

So I get home and I don't delay at all. That drop cloth is down in the driveway in seconds flat. Lucky for me, it is a windless, cloudy, warm day in the valley. It is PERFECT for stripping furniture. Which I recognize because I have such a firm hold on what I'm doing, of course.

I strap on the mask and the gloves, read the directions for the umpteenth time, and spread the stripper on the side of the dresser with a really cheap paint brush.

This brown paint on the dresser is totally not a match for my stripper. It's flaking off before I'm even done applying it! Hooray!

What I quickly discover, though, is that there's another layer of yellow varnish under the brown dresser. And LUCKY for me, the stripper does take them both off, and if I let it sit for twenty minutes or so I can get all off at once.

Any time I've ever imagined stripping off old paint, I picture the old crap coming off all at once in these thick gooey strips, and I've always imagined the whole thing feeling incredibly satisfying. Guess what? IT IS.

The only slightly unsatisfying thin is that the yellow varnish is really disgusting as it comes off. It doesn't come off in solid strips, but in this gooey, mucusy sludge. Once I figure out how to scrape and then immediately transfer the goo to the rag in my other hand, it goes pretty quickly. After the initial strip, I typically only have to do a once over with some steel wool dipped in the stripper to get off any tough bits. So one piece at a time, I strip the sucker clean.

According to my book, I needed to use mineral spirits to get any residue  off the wood. Now, my father has used mineral spirits for years, so I know: there is nothing stinkier in the world than mineral spirits. Or anyway, nothing stinkier that is also safely stored in a can in the garage.

But I am SUPER SMART and I buy the "odorless" mineral spirits. Is it really odorless? No, of course not. But it is by no means the absolutely awful, throat-clenching misery of normal mineral spirits.

Now. This detail is pretty critical. Because it's starting to rain as I am rubbing the whole thing down one last time.

Remember those clouds I mentioned? They were indeed hiding the sun perfectly. But the whole precipitation thing was a major drawback.

So...I had to move this thing back into the house much earlier than I had planned. I had intended to let it dry outside overnight. But THAT would have been a disaster.

So. Thing is moved inside. And my house smells a little awful. But oh well.

Here it is! The naked dresser!

I'm sure you can see the places where the paint did not really come off...Yeah, I see them too.

But I'll explain that whole debacle in the next step.

After we strip the dresser, we have to dress the dresser, amirite?

[failityourself]

So I really want to go to this, but I can't afford a ticket. 

I'm wondering if maybe I can pull off a Fail-It-Yourself version instead. 

Maybe I could upcycle last year's E3 badge?

Or better yet, reclaim my Vogue Knitting LIVE 2011 registration!

Thrifty does it, right? 

[failityourself]

The next big project for which I am not at all prepared.

[failityourself]

Sew On A Roll

So I'm just going to continue with the whole sofa thing. Since I'm logged in and all.

We are now up to January, by the way.

So, I finally get my sewing machine down from the closet shelf.

Now that I'm looking at it, I remember how cute it is.

I've already taken the old fabric off and taken the stitches out. So I spread it out on the fabric that is still left. How well did I plan this out, right? (So glad I ordered the extra yard.)

Now I get out my fabric pen and spend no less than an hour tracing and measuring and fretting. And I honestly don't know how I got through this, or how I managed to finally take the scissors to it. It's kind of like an ill-remembered fever dream. Anyway, I eventually cut.

And then I line up the pieces and sew them together. Less stress here. I bought a seam ripper, so I'm good for re-dos.

Also, regarding the seam ripper. I forgot to mention that the old fabric is basically stitched together like a big sack that goes over the back of the sofa. But when I try to take it off, it's impossible to tug off. I have to use the seam ripper to take out the seam while the fabric is still on the furniture, or it's never coming off. While doing this, I also realize that I'm never going to be able to make a sack, then get it onto the sofa. So I decide that I'm going to sew the side pieces to the front, then attach the back with tack strips. Which suits me fine, because I love smashing with my mallet. As you know.

Back to sewing! I sew, then look at my handiwork.

Way to go.

Nurse! Seam ripper, please.

Let's try this again. Second time works much better, and I manage to avoid the same issue on the other side.

Seamless!

I forget to take a picture of the tack strip before I hammer it in. Also, I forget to take any pictures of the staples at the bottom. You understand, right? I mean, the sewing part is over, and the light was at the end of the tunnel. And I am running for it with tears streaming down my face, hands outstretched, drinking in the light and the air and the after photo.

My new living room sofa corner!

I failed it myself, folks. And succeeded.

Eventually.

[failityourself]

December: A Smashing Success

I have one more project from December that was a mitigated success, but I'm skipping right over it and heading straight into smashing success because I'm still not sure to what extent this other success will be mitigated. (Yes, I'm aware that it's almost February! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!)

Anyway, enough. Smashing success!

I know, again with the after photo right off the bat. Well. Sorry.

I did the arms on my sofa in December! Yay! And it was a smashing success!! You know why? Because I bought a mallet.

Here we go with the Fail It Yourself tutorial:

This simple tool, basically the oldest tool known to man, is the bestest. Why? Because I can use it to jam the screwdriver under the staples and pry them out faster. Smash! AND that's not the primary reason I even buy the sucker!

I buy the mallet because, as you may remember, I am terrified of sewing, and, much to my dismay, the original fabric on the arms of my sofa came with lots of stitches in it. Rather than actually challenge myself and my sewing machine, I search about for other ways to put fabric on my sofa arms.

I find this video: http://youtu.be/ZlkgM92LJmI

And I'm like, ok, hammer and nail. I can do that. And I go to Joann's, and can you believe it, they've got one package of tack strips.

The arm chunk is shaped like a really big piece of toast. It's got two big flat sides, and four skinny sides that are kind of like the crust. And the whole piece of toast has padding on it except for the big flat side that goes on the outside of the sofa, and the bottom of the crust. So all my staples and my tack strips are going on the outside and the bottom bit of the crust. Got it? Nope? Okay...

So I am going to wrap one big piece of fabric up the inside of the arm, over the top, and then secure it on the outside with the tack strip. Clear yet?

I'm starting to realize that the only part of this project that isn't going to be a smashing success is the fact that I now can't describe what I did.

Look. Are you good at wrapping presents? If so, you'll get it. If not...well, then you're probably never going to try upholstery so I guess you'll get over it.

I have now wrapped the fabric up the padded side, and around the front, back, and top of the crust. But now, I need to hammer down the other side of the toast. And...I have too much fabric. So I'm cutting away some.

Pointy! Sharp! Immediately after this photo I go get my work gloves.

So basically, I do exactly what that woman does in the video. I poke the tacks up through the fabric, then fold it under.

Then I tuck the flap at the top there under so there's just one seam along the top edge of the crust. Picture it. I know it totally makes sense. It does, I swear.

Fail it yourSMASH!!

See? See?

Then all I have to do is staple along the bottom! Wait, no. First I have to do another tack strip on the other side of this piece of fabric. Okay, now I can staple! Then repeat on the other piece of toast on the other side of the sofa.

I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely I forgot a step? I'm eventually going to smash my thumb? But I never do. I just have, just once this month, a smashing success.

[failityourself]

New Years Resolution: Be Happier, and fail more. 

[failityourself]

December: Mitigated Successes, Part 2

My second mitigated success of December was a gift to myself. Cuz what the hey, right?

I'm not sure why I decided to do this project when I did, except that I'd been thinking about it for a while and got tired of looking at the picture frames just sitting around.

I also can't remember where I got the inspiration/how to for this project. It's been on my mind for that long!

Anyway, it's a pair of jewelry hangers made out of a picture frame and hardware cloth.

Is it annoying that I show the end product first? Oh well, sorry.

Here's the thing. I have had one of these picture frames for at least a year. I bought it for a Halloween costume.

This is the genius accessory for last year's costume, FYI. Similar to the lunchbox purse from this year. Because anyone can dress up as Frida Khalo, but I went as Frida Khalo's self portrait. It's a small detail, but critical. I think.

I picked up the other frame with this project in mind at a little shop somewhere. I don't remember when.

So, one night in December I just up and decide that I want to do this project, so I go to the Do It Center to get the hardware cloth and S hooks.

Now, I love hardware stores. I truly do. Part of what I love about them is that I never quite know how they are organized. So I do a lot of wandering around looking for what I need, and I get lots of new screwy little ideas.

Here's the weird thing, though. On this random night in December, I don't wander. I accidentally walk right up to the hardware cloth, which is on a shelf in the back of the paint section. Way to easy, right? So I'm sure the S hooks will be impossible to find.

But I turn the corner onto the next aisle, and hey-o, there are those S hooks. Oh, and right next to the S hooks?? Picture hangers. No joke.

I'm thinking this is way to easy so far. And I'm right.

They call this stuff hardware cloth. But it's not cloth. It's wire. It's metal. You have to cut it with wire cutters. And if you don't wear work gloves when you handle it, you will bleed.

So I measure out my pieces and cut what I need off the roll (takes forever, makes me bleed), and I go to town with my staple gun affixing the hardware cloth to the back of the frame.

Oh hey look. Wow.

So my staple gun is now too heavy duty.

Switching immediately to hot glue gun.

The hot glue gun seems to hold the hardware cloth down well enough, and I figure no one will notice the puncture wounds on the front of the frame. One down, one to go.

The other picture frame is much heavier wood and I'm pretty sure it's thicker, too. And because I love my staple gun and don't want her to get lonely (I don't care about the hot glue gun, evidently) I try it out on the second one.

WAY TO GO!!!

Switching back to glue gun for the duration.

No one will notice that I made the same mistake on both frames, right?

Right?

Anyway, my jewelry is now much easier to see and therefore wear.

Bonus: I realized that if any piece of jewelry is too ugly to hang on the wall, I am probably not going to put it around my neck ever again. So I now know which pieces to harvest for parts (in case you didn't already guess, a lot of my jewelry is a fail it yourself project from days of yore) and streamlined my jewelry collection. Score!

And that's the second of my mitigated successes in December.

[failityourself]

I'm doing the apartmenttherapy.com January cure! I went through my hobbit hole and made my to do list today, and it is long. I am trying not to panic, trying not to panic, trying not to panic...

PANIC!

[failityourself]

December: The Mitigated Successes, Part 1

So, as the title suggests, I had a number of mitigated successes.This is the first.

I saw this recipe for orange bitters in my Sunset magazine and I was like, yes, that please.

So first I gather up ingredients. And this takes an entire day.

It begins when I decide to take a short hike in the morning, and I leave the house right after breakfast. And I realize on my way to the hike that I need to use the bathroom, and I'd rather do that before the hike. So I stop in at Von's because I know they'll have a public bathroom. (Oddly, I was doing so much running around about this time that I used the bathroom in no less than three different grocery stores in the span of one weekend. Weird, I know, but they're pretty dependable to be honest.)

Anyway, I figure, while I'm here, why don't I gather up my bitters ingredients? And that works pretty well except I can't get Everclear at Von's because I guess grain alcohol is kind of intense for a supermarket.

But I realize as I'm leaving the supermarket that there's a BevMo in the same parking lot, and I'm like, that's perfect. Of course, it's Sunday morning at 9:45 and the liquor store doesn't open until 10. But never mind. I'll wait.

I wait outside the liquor store for the clerk to unlock the door, and I walk right in and ask for Everclear, and suddenly I realize that I just waited outside the liquor store on Sunday morning so I could buy grain alcohol. I explain to the clerk as I check out that I'm making bitters so he doesn't think I have a problem. I'm not sure he believes me.

After my hike, I go to Whole Foods, where I find whole cardamom and star anise, also not available at Von's. Then I go to Ace Hardware (which is THE place, FYI) and buy five half pint mason jars, one quart mason jar, and one two-quart mason jars.

And I come home and get ready to mix this stuff up, and that's when I realize that the warnings on this bottle of everclear are insane.

I can't believe I'm using this stuff as anything other than some type of fuel AND giving it as a gift. But it's too late. I've already embarrassed myself at BevMo and made myself find a parking spot at the abysmal Whole Foods, so there's no going back.

I zest my orange and chop up my ginger and put everything in the medium sized jar.

Tip for failing this yourself: Do NOT stick your face in the jar at this point and expect it to smell like Christmas. It doesn't smell like Christmas. It smells like grain alcohol.

Three weeks later, I come back with a cheese cloth and do my straining and boiling. And I melt the sugar, which does exactly what the instructions say it will do, and all is going fine.

This is the sugar water stuff cooling in a bowl of ice water. Neat, right?

Then I add it all together in one big jar.

At this point, it's safe to stick your face in the jar and take a whiff. It will smell like Christmas. Actually, after cooking it on the stove, your whole kitchen will smell like Christmas.

Tip for failing it yourself: Don't light the jar on fire and expect it to burn like a yule log. It won't burn like a yule log. It will explode in your face like grain alcohol.*

After leaving it another five days, I come back and strain it all out again into a pitcher that usually holds my tongs and spoons and things.

Sans pitcher.

The Pitcher.

For the record, I washed all the new jars and the old pitcher before using them. Not that anything gross could have survived immersion in the grain alcohol, but just in case you're wondering.

Then I pour it in five neat little jars.

They're a little sticky, though, so after putting the caps on the jars I get a wet paper towel and wipe them all off.

And that's when this project went from a smashing success to a success mitigated by 20% in a single smash.

Yay.

It's ok, I can make another batch. I should start tomorrow. Should I drop by BevMo when it opens on New Years Eve and snag some more Everclear? Yep. Good Plan.

*I don't know this from experience. But you should trust me on this. I mean, I did read the warning labels, didn't I?