I mentioned earlier in the week that I’d received a package of milk paint from Canada. I also said that I wouldn’t be using it for a while, due to other work commitments. I lied. Sorry and all that, but it was only a little, tiny fib, and not really a fib at all, I just decided to ignore more pressing refurbs and try the milk paint instead.
And here’s the victim, having handles removed:
A vintage Chippy telephone seat.
I knew that milk paint distresses itself, but didn’t want to end up with the whole paint job falling off, so I sanded:
Then I washed:
Then I mixed the paint:
Then I painted:
Then I swore.
Then hubby decided to hot foot it out for a couple of hours; there was no way he was getting the blame for the poor paint coverage.
Then I second coated:
Then I swore some more. Hubby had returned at this point and hot footed it in the house. The coverage was poor and there were dribbles. I sulked, and then spent an hour trying to get the sewing machine to work, before realising that I’d threaded it wrong *doh*. I swore. I also made a slip cover for the telephone seat pad, using one of my transfers.
Then the telephone seat was left overnight. Funnily enough, the coverage was no better in the morning; the milk paint fairies hadn’t visited during the night. How disappointing. So I swore (again) and then sanded the paintwork. Then I liked how smooth it felt, so I didn’t swear, but mixed some more paint instead and prepared to work. But hubby could sense a storm brewing, so went to the paddock and stayed there until afternoon.
Then I painted, then made coffee and mucked out the stable and faffed with some other bits and bobs.
Then I looked at the paintwork and saw all the crackles. So, I flicked some of it with my screwdriver, then sanded. Then poked at it suspiciously (this is a very professional skill, only try this if fully qualified to do so). Then peered at it nervously for quite a long time. The earth didn’t move, neither did the paint, so I waxed it. Then I liked it. Then hubby came home, looked at the done thing and said “Bloody hell, you’re having a bad day at the office”. Then I ignored him:
It’s not my usual style, but I do like milk paint:
It’s fun. It makes a change from my usual stuff. I won’t be using it too often, but the milk paint will have its place in my collection of paints: