• Stephanie Gillett

The Room that Would Be Peach (But Was Not)





You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men, right? Such was the case with our former master bedroom.


I had my heart set on painting the walls peach after a trip to Sherwin Williams, my favorite paint store. (No, they aren’t paying me to say this.) They have a historical paint color section that I just got lost in, and I picked up a few shades of 1950s peach and terra cotta to take home and tape on the wall. I’d not even considered the color until I saw it there and remembered how often I would see the color in older homes as a child.


“Peach,” I thought. “Yeah!” Mitch agreed.


I had the perfect bed set picked out and marveled at how good it was going to look with the white oak bedroom furniture we bought with the house. This bedroom furniture was probably used in this room, and we were set on returning it to its original splendor, 1950s style.


And so we got started, scraping paint off the ceiling and the walls where it had been peeling. We took off about 18 pounds of paint shavings and revealed not just one, but three different colors that the bedroom used to be. And at the very bottom of that set of colors…


Green. A lovely sage green.


There was also a cream and a turquoise-y sea green under there, but I kept going back to this sage green. It didn’t take me long to realize that it would not only look fantastic, but it was also part of our house’s story. So, sage it was.


All the usual work was required for this room. We had to pull off repair tape, re-repair cracks (including one on the ceiling that spanned the room). There was enough sanding done to coat the whole house a half inch thick. We had to finish the closet, adding paint where there had been only drywall after it had been repaired and re-insulated.

We painted a message to my brother-in-law for a milestone birthday because we were so busy we forgot to send a card.


Our final touch was scrubbing down all the woodwork with Murphy’s Oil Soap. And then keep the windows open for five days to get rid of the paint smell.


We don’t have the art rehung on the wall yet, but my good friend Lourdes was very pleased to be our inaugural guest. We pulled out all the stops for her, including a basket of towels and her very own soap. If there had been a shade on the lamp, it would have been nearly perfect. Ha!

I know painting a room doesn’t seem like much, but anything we take on in this house is a huge amount of work. Most people don’t have to scrape 18 pounds of old peeling paint off, repair wet plaster cracks that should have gotten attention 15 years ago. The closet rebuild aside, it took nearly 5 weeks of pretty consistent work, tackled on weekends and when we got home after a day at the office.


All a labor of love. This is a great little house and I love, love, love it.


You should come see it. We have plenty of room!




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