Last year, my sister called me out of the blue and asked if I wanted an old dresser that she no longer had any use for. It had been in her son's bedroom but he didn't have room for it anymore. I said yes, thinking I could use it in my daughter's room as she was outgrowing her nursery furniture and we had a baby on the way that would soon be needing it anyway.
When she dropped it off, my sister explained that the dresser had been hers growing up and I remembered it being in her room. At that time it was painted a light blue with some pink and white flowered knobs. She said she had memories of it being a "dress up" storage piece in our basement before that, and it had been painted bright crazy colors and was filled with our old halloween costumes and kept under the stairs next to our deep freeze. I only vaguely remember it but by the time I was very old, it had been repainted and put into my brother's bedroom, and then later, into my sister's with yet another new paint job.
I thought that was a nice piece full of memories and it would be special to have in my daughter's room, seeing as at one time it had been in the bedrooms of all 3 of my siblings and also my nephew.
It sat in the garage for about six months before I finally got around to painting it. When I began working on it I mentioned it to my mom. She told me that the dresser had been purchased by my grandparents when my mom was born for HER nursery. She said that it had been her dresser all her life growing up and had come with her when she got married. It was shifted around the house over the years, each time with a new coat of paint . . . in my brother's room, then in the basement as the makeshift "Tickle Trunk", then into my sister's room who also took it with her when she got married.
I was so thrilled that it came back around to me - how special that the same dresser that housed my mom's baby clothes is now the dresser where my daughter keeps her socks and Cinderella pyjamas. I think about it almost every time I open the drawers.
I can't even imagine how many coats of paint have been layered on it over the years. It's not a fancy piece, but it's sturdy and solid and in great condition. And full of memories. I have a feeling that one day my daughter will be lugging it out the front door, probably painted a totally different color and moving it into a house of her own.
And when she does, I can tell her "Did you know this dresser was your Grandma's when she was born?"
And that's something you can't buy at a furniture store.
I painted the dresser white, and did a pink ombre on the drawers. It's definitely not my usual style, but I had been wanting to try the ombre look for a while and I have also been trying very hard to let my daughter's room be her own space. She loves pink, and I wanted her room to be bright and fun, not feel like an extension of my own personal decorating style. I feel like it's important to let both my girls express their personality and have some say in the decorating decisions in their rooms.
Does that mean I would be ok with hot pink walls or My Little Pony bedding? No. I'm just not ready to let go of that much control and I readily admit it. But I try to allow her to make the decisions, even if I am limiting her choices somewhat or guiding her toward a general idea of what I am "Ok" with.
She asked for pink, and pink it is. Having a bright pink dresser would make me feel agitated and panicky every time I stepped into the room, so painting it out white to match the rest of her furniture and limiting the bright color to the drawers makes it more palatable for me. And the cute glass knobs don't hurt either!
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