If domino decorating were a disease, I’d be the poster child.
These are the symptoms: One day your living space is perfectly OK. Everything goes together the way dull goes with drab, or old goes with tired. Then you change something — a wall color, a drape, a sofa — and whatever it’s next to looks worse. So you change that. Next you’re remodeling the whole room, then the one next to it.
This explains how my plain white columns, which were once just fine, suddenly needed a makeover, and dragged my entryway walls with them.
Rewind.
The domino decorating started last year. I faux-finished my dull dining room, which left the entry looking drabber. So I hung drapes there and added a settee. Then the space between the entry and the dining room became a wasteland. In the middle were the two white, precast columns standing like sentries.
Back when everything was white or off- white, the columns blended. But as I surrounded them with richer colors, they glared like searchlights.
“What should I do with these?” I asked Jade Wieland, a Denver faux-finish artist and guiding light behind my transformed dining room. She offered some ideas, but I was too busy ruminating to hear.
Should I take them out? No, columns add architectural interest. Plus, they might be structural. (The difference between structural and nonstructural columns is that if you remove a structural column, your two-story home becomes a one-story.) Should I clad them with wood? No, too officey. Cover them in stone? Too rustic. (I covered some columns in my basement with stone, which fit, but this area was more formal.) Paint them? They needed texture. Faux-finish them to look like marble? Too pretentious.
Months later, I ran into Jade exhibiting her wares at a home show.
“I’m still thinking about my columns.”
“When you’re done let me know because I have the solution.”
I find it irritating that certain designers know what I want before I do. “I know what I don’t want.”
“Come here.”
She showed me this hand-painted wallpaper that looked like ancient plaster. It was neither formal nor rustic, not wooden or plain; it had texture but not too much, character without pretense, and came in lots of colors.
When she told me that it went up in large patches, not rolls, I was sold. On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being a blind man can do it drunk, installing regular wallpaper is a 7; this paper is a 3.
“Why didn’t you show me this before?” I said, trying not to drool.
“I did. I’ve been waiting for you to come around.”
Back at my house, we sorted through color samples, and picked The One. Then Jade stated the obvious: “If we faux-paper the columns, your entry will need more oomph.”
“I should have seen that coming.”
We papered the entry, too. Another domino down.
Syndicated columnist Marni Jameson is the author of “The House Always Wins” (Da Capo). Contact her through .
Hang in there
At Stoney Brook Wallcoverings in Wheaton, Minn., artists put as many as 20 colors of paint and sometimes plaster onto large sheets of 60-pound craft paper. The crackled sheets can cover walls, columns, furniture, box valances, cornices or fireplace surrounds. I like it on any surface where real plaster might go. (Check out the photo gallery at stoneybrookpaper .) You can do this too.
Pick your paper. Tape a sample to the wall and live with it. Ordering is based on the square feet you want covered. No complicated wallpaper calculations that require multiplying roll sizes and repeats with pi squared.
Size the surface. Sizing is glue for glue. Don’t ask me why this is necessary, just trust me, and roll it onto every surface you plan to cover.
Dry fit. Start in one corner. Hold up a section of paper to see where it falls. If you don’t like a particular edge, rip it. This feels like breaking the rules and is wonderfully fun, like wearing torn jeans to church. Every piece has at least one straight side. Use those against baseboards and moldings. Otherwise, tear edges so they’re imperfect.
Enjoy the benefits. This is wallpaper for dummies. No mapping the room, matching patterns or aligning seams. If you have textured drywall, as I do, you don’t have to use wallpaper liner or skim coat to get a smooth surface — which can double cost and time. With this paper, surface texture enhances the look.
Book it. When you know where your first piece is going, dip a 4-to-6-inch roller into goop. (Ask for wallcovering adhesive C234.) Roll it onto the back of the paper. Fold the goopy sides together. This is called booking, and I have no idea why you do this. Leave it for a couple of minutes before unfolding and applying it.
Stick it on. Press paper on with your hands, scooting it around until it’s where you want it to be. Wipe it with a large damp sponge to iron out bubbles and secure edges. Don’t worry if you press in a wrinkle. That’s part of the effect.
Be wrong on purpose. Random application looks better.
Repairs are easy. When the heel of my sandal tore a rent in freshly hung paper as I climbed down the ladder, I thought my faux-finishing muse, Jade, would kill me. She just smiled and showed me how to tack on a patch. “Told you it was perfect for you,” she said.
