Painting things white.

You know that feeling when you walk into a room and instantly feel calm? All the furniture feels like it fits, the lighting is soft, all the objects in the room have a purpose, you dream of living in this space; then you head out and find the short cut to where the hot dogs are located after the markethall.

I am of course talking about the warm fussy feeling only an Ikea store can give, or so I thought. But I have decided (this not yet confirmed) that in fact all Swedish homes are like this (likely to never be confirmed, only Father Christmas can visit that many abodes). Things are white, clutter is minimal, as I have mentioned in a previous post, items are stored in glass jars. It is a beautiful dreamland, lit by the bright sunshine (for half the year, and many, many lightbulbs during the scary winter months that we probably won’t speak of much), and acting as a backdrop for breakfasts of rye bread and coffee, and dinners of salmon and creme fraiche.

My way of trying to bring this style in to my home is by gradually painting everything white. I am somewhat limited due to the fact that it is a rented flat, and that my flatmates don’t want to live in a igloo. The week I moved in I repainted the white walls of my room (and the bits of ceiling I could reach from the edge, you can only see in some lights) and have been making small alterations since.

We even managed to paint two walls of the lounge, it is a project we must complete before we move out whenever that may be *.

Today’s job was to Swedish a shoe rack which was built for me by a very handsome chap while I made tea, alas he did not take up my suggestion to do this topless. One cannot have it all. It was also a chance for me to assess my DIY abilities as I already had one the same which I built with my own fair hands.

So, it began as a humble set of shelves:

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I know from this angle it looks like there is more wood than white in this room, it’s a work in progress. I found some paint in a cupboard in the house (and only spilt a small amount on the floor when I opened it) and got straight to work.

Before long, it looked like this: Ta da!

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This was quite a messy exercise, and I’m sure I will find hundreds and thousands of tiny paint splatters on my carpet that managed to leap over my tiny area of floor protection, that is those that didn’t land on me. *as before.

Once the paint had dried and I had separated the shelves from the magazine pages I had used to protect my floor (my flatmates suggested with hindsight a way I could have avoided this, but I was far too excited to have thought of that before hand) I replaced the shelves in their original position. Shoes back on, the shelves look great. I have very happy with this Swedefication.

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Anna.

* This denotes a very Non-Swedish characteristic, so we will act like it’s fine, perhaps some kind of adorable flaw.

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