This is the story of a gross laundry room that still looks a little bit gross, but is about to get 100 times less gross. Did you follow that?
When we first embarked on our laundry room project, we knew it would take a bit of elbow grease. To give you an idea of what we were working with, there were layers and layers of peeling floral wallpaper that I’m quite sure were adhered to the wall with super glue in the year of 1811. After trying everything the hardware store recommended (including both steam and solvent techniques), we went with Plan B: Ignore it.
A bit of insight into my mind? There is no ignoring anything in my home. Even the inevitable dust mites wear party hats. So naturally, Plan B quickly morphed into Plan C: Cover up the problem.
Which is why this weekend, we started another wood-paneling project. After spotting a few wood-paneled bedrooms at Remodelista, I knew I wanted to recreate a Swedish utilitarian room instead of the wallpapered, buttoned-up laundry room I had originally envisioned. So, to get the rough, lived-in look I wanted, we contacted a Wyoming-based company called Centennial Woods for some reclaimed snowfence and with that, the project began.
After painting the walls black (to ensure that any space between the planks would appear to be shadows rather than exposed wallpaper) and locating our studs, Ken enlisted the help of a burly friend, and the two of them nailed staggered plank after staggered plank to create a Swedish laundry escape.
The entire project took roughly twenty hours (sans ceiling planks), and I can’t wait to see how the space looks after we douse each wall with a healthy dose of white paint (you know, so the wood looks less “dungeon” and more “let’s wash things!”). I’ll keep you posted, as always. For now, I have to help poor Ken remove hundreds of tiny splinters from his hands…
[All image credits are Rob Bredow]