A '70s Resurgance In My Basment

Have you ever been painting a room and had one of those moments in which you doubt your choice of paint color? Like seriously, to the core, doubt your choice of paint color? Put your finger to your chin, tip your head to one side, and say ' … hmm … I don't know about this color'?

That happened to me Tuesday morning as I rolled on the first coat of paint for the basement.

Only it wasn't a calm finger to the chin/tipped head scenario. Oh no. I'm slightly more dramatic than that. It was more of an 'Oh ... shit' moment.

I am the first one to admit that I have a tiny problem deciding on a paint color. However, after I've made my choice I'm usually thrilled with the color. Sure, it might take me ten days and three hundred and twenty paint samples, but once I've picked a color I adore it until the end of time.

So what went wrong with the basement color? I was rushed.

Okay. I wasn't so much rushed as much as I just put off picking a color. I procrastinated until the last possible second. And let's face it. My track record at the paint store isn't good. I do not do my best decision making at the paint store.

In my head, all throughout the basement finishing process, I've been leaning towards a slightly dark sage green. A nice, calming sage green. Pretty much the color of the walls found in many elementary schools and mental institutions. I thought a sage green color would look nice with the white trim and some white wainscoting.

At the paint store I found the perfect choice: Boston Fern. Doesn't that just sound lovely? Boston Fern. Harold (new paint store guy) mixed up three gallons of Boston Fern for me. And a gallon of Toffee Crunch for the new basement bathroom, but I digress.

After the first couple of swipes of the roller, my stomach got that sinking feeling. Boston Fern didn't look as lovely on my walls as it did on my paint chip. Knowing that paint always dries a slightly different color, I soldiered on, painting an entire wall before I stood back to survey the scene.

Cue the plaid pants, wide collars, and groovy platform shoes because the scene quickly became 1972. My walls are now the same shade of avocado green as the appliances and shag carpet in my house when I was growing up.

I kid you not.

That, my friends, was my 'Oh … shit' moment.

Oh shit, my walls aren't a nice dark sage green, they are avo-freaking-cado!

Oh shit, it's 1972 down here!

Wait … is that a bad thing?

Yes! Yes that's a bad thing! It means I can't put the frieze (shag) carpet down here. Then it will really look like 1972 in the basement.

Wait … is that a bad thing?

Yes! Yes that's a bad thing. I had this haircut in the '70s.

Do I really need to repeat the fashion choices of this decade?

… maybe. I did put two coats of avocado green Boston Fern on my basement walls and I'm totally digging it.

Can a bowl haircut and a hot pink satin jacket be far behind? Pin It Now!