Houston, we have a problem.
If you've been keeping up with our long, drawn out process of selecting elements for our master bathroom, you may recall our debate on whether to use tile or wood wainscoting. We certainly weighed our options, crunched numbers, and took hours of labor into consideration. Although I prefer the look of tile to wood paneled wainscoting, the price and effort were enough to sway us to the other side.
In true Alex overkill fashion, he tirelessly researched the various companies and profiles, and after much deliberation, we landed on a winner. Style WC 101 from Mad River Woodworks.
Several weeks back we placed the order for our new, beautiful wainscoting, and have waited for its arrival with baited breath. This past weekend was our lucky day, as the hard rap on our front door indicated its long awaited debut.
Box after box, weighing in at a cool 66 pounds each, made their way off the truck as the poor delivery man grew more and more irritated.
As I stood by, watched, snapped a photo, and kept Lulu at bay, Alex joined in the fun and helped unload and carry our new "walls" into the house. Even with the extra set of hands, the driver's frustration was palpable. At one point he even remarked, "You're killing me, man. I'm on home delivery because it's supposed to be easier." Sorry to disappoint, kind sir. Apparently he didn't get the memo that the crazy DIY-ers live on this block, or he'd surely have requested a route change.
After dropping what felt like a mountain of boxes in our front hallway, like kids on Christmas morning we excitedly ripped into the first box, anxiously awaiting the first glimpse of our new paneling. After some cutting, ripping, prying, and audible grunting, we freed the first board from its cocoon of packing materials.
We both looked at it...and said nothing.
I suggested we pull out another board or two, lug it upstairs to the bathroom, and prop it in place to really get a good feel for the look of it. Alex obliged, we looked, and again fell silent.
Now I'm not one to bite my tongue, but I didn't want to burst my dear husband's bubble. I knew he was really excited about the wainscoting order, but my mind was reeling. The wainscoting looked ridiculously huge, both in width and in terms of the size of the bead. It looked like a circus-sy interpretation of a classic. And I hated it.
What I was hoping would come in the mail was a slightly wider and more custom looking version of your standard bead board. Something exactly like this:
Photo Credit: for the love of a house
Hmm, what we had definitely did not look like the picture above.
Hate is a strong word...but I really hate it. I also know that while I can visualize a space with the rest of them, I have two weaknesses in this area. First of all, I have a really tough time interpreting a drawing of the profile of wood molding. Until I see it in person, I struggle with visualizing it. This was the case with the online illustrations. I really couldn't picture them, whereas a picture of the installed product would have made perfect sense in my mind.
Secondly, I fall victim to mid-project panic. You know, where you feel like you have a clear vision of a space, but once you're up to your elbows in it and it's too late to turn back, you start to get that nagging voice in the back of your head that whispers, "This will be the ugliest room in the history of the world. What were you thinking when you chose/bought/painted that? My eight month-long mid-project panic after I bought the rug for the sun porch is a perfect example.
So I decided to bite my tongue and see if I could get used to it. That was until Alex, even a day later, kept asking me what I thought of the new addition. I finally broke down, sticking a toe in the veritable waters of a massive DIY disagreement, and offered up a "I don't love it at this point, but I'm trying to reserve judgement until we see it in the space."
Well, that opened up the floodgates for him, and he confessed that he too was having similar feelings of doubt. On one hand I was relieved, on the other hand I thought, "Oh shit. Now we really have a problem."
We've invested $1,000 in materials, $350 of which was shipping, and we can't return it. It nearly killed me the first time to spend the money...when we were using the stuff, but spend $1,000 on something to scrap? No way!
So we're at a bit of a standstill and have been contemplating a few options.
Option A: Prime several boards so we can better envision how they'll look in the room. It's hard to picture the true look of the wainscoting when looking at the current naked poplar.
Option B: Invest hours of effort in retrofitting each board. This would involve Alex re-routing the bead detail to make it smaller, and possibly even ripping each board to narrow the width slightly. This option will take a ton of time, and will also result in us being short materials as we had calculated our order based on the original width. I'm not a fan of Option B, but if it means salvaging $1,000 worth of good materials, then I'm all for trying it as a last ditch effort.
Option C: Sell/CraigsList the materials to recoup a portion of the cost, and start our sourcing efforts from scratch. At most we'd get a fraction of the original cost.
I keep trying to remind myself that this could be mid-project panic, and that all I'm looking at right now is the wainscoting. In the finished space, it will be a subtle background element, overshadowed by our gorgeous salvaged claw foot tub, glitzy beveled mirror, what is sure to be beautiful floor length curtains, and stunning built ins. It will also be largely obscured by items in the room such as the vanity, built ins, and tub, with the only long run being on the back wall of the bathroom opposite the door.
While I try to temper my anxiety over this one, I welcome your input. Are we too close to the project at this point, unnecessarily obsessing over a detail? (After all, we are the couple that for months afterwards agonized that the caulk around our other bathroom's pedestal sink was "too white" next to the tile.) Or, are our fears well founded? Did you take a look at the wainscoting and thought it screamed "circus sideshow act" to you? We'd love to know what direction you think we should head.