This little dresser has been on some type of journey. She has been beat up and dumped on. No doubt. She’s scraped and scuffed. Even broken in some places. She was discarded by her owner. Forgotten about. And many would walk by her without glancing her way.
She’s the first piece of furniture I bought several weeks ago when I started this journey of restoring furniture. I was in a large storage building rumbling through the clutter of many things that had been left behind. I was drawn to her sweet little lines and her fabulous hardware. I asked about the price. A little more then I was wanting to pay. Not worth it, I thought. I kept looking. But as I looked at other pieces, I kept picturing her with a fresh coat of paint and all prettied up. I pictured her happy and loved in a sweet girls rooms surrounded by frills and fluff. Needless to say, I brought her home. ❤️ And when I got her home and brought her inside (after vacuuming out the roaches in her drawers🤢), I questioned my purchase. She was a filthy mess. Layers of grime. She needed a lot of work.
As I scrubbed off the gunk, it became apparent that she wasn’t going to become the freshly painted, shiny new dresser I had in my mind. She needed to be restored in a way that honored her rough edges and tattered self.
So even though she’s the first piece of furniture I bought to restore, she hasn’t been my first completed project. She is still sitting in my upstairs hall waiting patiently for me.
I haven’t forgotten about her but I want to take my time. I want to learn more so when I start her restoration, it’s true to the piece that she has become. She’s not going to be shiny, new and perfect. But she’ll be special. Proudly showing her bumps and bruises. A true one-of-a-kind. 😍