How the Internet Helped Paint My Kitchen

For the past two months, my kitchen has been under some sort of construction.  We had an undetected leak inside the kitchen wall which seeped underneath the whole floor.  Since you can't dry out water from below a tile floor, the entire kitchen had to come out in order to replace the damaged floor and walls.

          This experience has not been as much fun as you'd expect.  A forced renovation doesn't feel nearly as exciting as a planned one, and I can personally attest that there's at least twice as much swearing involved.  Still, we had to do what we had to do, so the past few months have been spent packing up things from our cabinets, tearing them out, replacing the floor and walls, and putting everything back together again.

Since our cabinets were undamaged, we didn't have to worry about selecting new ones, but everything else had to be chosen.  Tile or laminate floor?  Should the countertop be solid surface or granite?  What color tile for the backsplash?  Which accent tiles?  Of course, every new choice had to also match the previous choices or the kitchen would look as if it were coordinated by a colorblind five-year-old.  While my decorating skills are not among my greatest talents, they are superior to those of a colorblind five-year-old.

Through this project, I've learned that there's nothing like a home renovation to put a marriage to the test.  In the beginning, Dan and I happily chose a countertop and flooring together, each respecting the other's opinion.  By the time we had to choose a paint color, though, neither of us could muster any energy - or cooperation - over yet another choice to make. 

Since Dan was also our contractor, working every spare moment on the kitchen in addition to his regular full-time job began to take a toll on him.  Picking a paint color was not something he was the tiniest bit interested in doing.  He just wanted to be DONE.  So instead of attempting to help me choose, or even giving me any kind of advance warning, I simply received the instruction, "I'm painting tomorrow, so pick a color."

This request should not strike fear in anyone, but it did in me.  The last time I picked a paint color, it did not end well.  What should've been the warm color of terracotta somehow morphed into Pink Panther pink when it was applied to the walls of my kitchen.  The color was so ugly that when I told my mother about the water damage in our kitchen, the first thing she said was, "Does this mean you can finally get rid of that godawful pink paint?"

After that painful pink experience, I was determined to choose a paint color I wouldn't regret.  But how could I select the right one with only a day to pick it?

I had a rare day off from work, so I set about the business of selecting paint for the kitchen.  Dan gave me one of those huge contractor paint swatch fan decks with a gazillion color choices.  Since there was a lot of gray in both the countertop and the floor, I started with the gray palette.  There were so many choices!  Names such as "Mindful Gray," "Worldly Gray," "Amazing Gray," "Intellectual Gray," and "Agreeable Gray" were amusing but not at all helpful.  I wasn't sure I wanted my walls to be smarter or more interesting than I am. 

A different color strip offered "Proper Gray" (as opposed to IMproper Gray?"), "Essential Gray" (made me wonder what "Non-Essential Gray" looked like,) and "Grayish."  Of the last one, my son Ryan said,"'Grayish?'  Really?  It's like they weren't even trying!"

I had high hopes for this color strip in spite of the lackluster names, but didn't feel confident enough to choose by myself.  I needed some real experts, so I did what any other clueless mom would do:  I asked my Facebook friends.

I posted photos of potential paint candidates along with samples of my floor, backsplash tiles, and countertop.  Within moments, friends were there to offer advice and opinions about the best color for my kitchen.

They were with me when I posted photos of the samples in the early morning sun.  They were with me when I discarded those colors and had to start all over later in the day because the dim light made them look dreadful. 

I thought my choice was settled until a friend recommended that I hold my favorite color next to my oak-colored cabinets to make sure it didn't clash.  Oops.  I'd completely forgotten about the cabinets!  She was right: the color that looked wonderful with the countertop, floor, and tile looked terrible next to the warm wood tones of my hickory cabinets.

Another friend had previously suggested a green palette which I hastily dismissed.  Now, being back at square one, I was willing to try anything - even (gasp!) The Green Palette.

I went to the paint store and selected several green-hued swatches.  Even though I had an entire color wheel at home, I wanted actual swatches to hang on the wall.

One color jumped out at me:  Silvermist.  It was a green-ish , gray-ish, aqua-ish, blue-ish color that was absolutely beautiful.  Plus, in no way did the name "Silvermist" make me feel inadequate as those gray colors had done.  Paint definitely wins points if it leaves my self-esteem intact.

I taped the swatches to the walls around the room.  The Silvermist one kept catching my eye.  I took a photo of the Silvermist swatch as well as two others and posted them to my Facebook page.  Within moments, friends commented in support of my choices.  Happily, I wasn't the only one who liked these new green-based swatches.

Dan came home from work and saw the paint swatches hanging all over the kitchen.

"So, did you pick a paint?"

"I think so," I said.  "I just want to see how the one I like looks in the morning with the sun hitting it."

Dan walked up to the Silvermist swatch.  "I really like this one."

"You do?" I was surprised that he expressed an opinion.  I mean, how would he hold it over my head for choosing an ugly color if he liked it, too?

"I like that one, too.  So do my Facebook friends."

"You asked your Facebook friends about a paint color?"

Clearly this man doesn't understand a thing about decorating.