Trash to Treasure: Wicker Chairs

Last post I tantalized you with this image:

I gotta say, the first word that pops in my head when I see these babies is, most definitely, "tantalizing."

I love trashed furniture. I love imagining in my head how pieces could look if someone just took a little time and effort into giving them new life. I love scouring alleys and finding junked stuff like this. Why, just this afternoon I made my husband, who is slightly embarrassed by this tendency of mine, load up a wicker table (score!) and a plastic child's slide from two different houses on an alley near my parents' house. (Who throws these kinds of things away? It's criminal.)

If you remember, I found these particular chairs in an alley, left for the trash, and rescued them. We desperately need outdoor seating but can't afford it brand-new, so I knew I needed to go another route. I practically did a victory dance when I spotted these. And, as usual, I looked over my shoulder the entire time we were loading them into our car, unable to believe that no one else has picked them up.

Now I will reveal my secrets in transforming them from garbage to beautiful, useable seating for our front porch, all for the shockingly low price of $6.88, plus Illinois state sales tax.

Are you ready? Here goes.

First, I cleaned 'em off real good with Murphy's Oil Soap, a bristle brush, and copious amounts of water. I think that the large people who had been gleefully and systematically knocking out the seats had also been rubbing gallons of mud on every available surface of wicker. I used the highest pressure setting on our hose nozzle, and the water ran brown. Yuck.

After washing them and then letting them thoroughly dry out for a couple days, I cut out the seats (they were, I suspect, the reason these chairs were left out on the curb in the first place), as well as any loose wicker edges, and spray painted the chairs black.

I used 4 cans of spray paint total. (This is where the cost comes in. I already had two cans, so I bought two more for $3.44 apiece.) Two were flat and two were satin. I figured flat and satin were close enough to not really matter in this particular scenario. I managed to spray paint my feet in the process, and my boogers were black for two days, but it was worth the black fake tan and the depleted brain cells just to see this simple yet dramatic transformation take place so instantaneously.

While the chairs dried in the garage for a day or so, I tackled the cushions. My mother-in-law had given me two hand-me-down cushions: one normal chair cushion (curved in the back) and one slightly smaller, rectangular-shaped cushion. They were faded blue denim, so clearly I needed to fashion some slipcovers. Shower curtain to the rescue.

The shower curtain in our bathroom had been one featuring the slightly overused Waverly Norfolk pattern. I liked it when we got married, and I still like it, just not for the interior of my home. It proved too busy for our small bathroom, so I cut it up and made window (mis)treatments for my kitchen, a la the Nester. 

They are called "mistreatments" because there is no sewing involved. I won't say anymore.* I think it would make some of you faint or maybe break out in nervous hives. Let's just say that they look great, stay up, and do the trick.

Anyway, I cut up my shower curtain (don't worry, I had another one on hand for the actual shower) and made these curtains a couple months ago, and I was already sick of Waverly still being in my house. I decided that, while not appropriate for the interior, it would be perfect for the exterior. Thus, my cushion covers were born.

Before and after.

I have mentioned before how trying I find sewing using my ancient Singer, and this time proved no different. Except that this time I managed to get about 3/4 of the way done with both covers before something happened that prevented my machine from working correctly. Perhaps it's dying. Perhaps I had the thread tension all wacky. Perhaps the stars weren't aligned just perfectly for optimal sewing conditions. Whatever. Suffice to say, the final 1/4 of both cushions have been mistreated. I'm okay with that. They're done.

Okay, so the cushions are done. Fine, my butt will be padded when I sit down. But wait! Those chairs have no seats! Silly Christine.

Ha! You didn't expect the finer talents of my father-in-law, carpenter extraordinaire, to come into play, did you? Actually, I don't think Dad Case would be all that thrilled at me allowing these simple plywood seats, cut to fit, to define his entire worth as a carpenter. Still, I thought it was pretty ingenious.

Oh, wait? What's that? You say that I thought of that and he simply executed my request perfectly? Well. We must make the perfect team. We should take this show on the road.

So the seats are almost done. All that needs to be done is to introduce the chair and the cushions.

Left Chair, meet Cushion.

Cushion, Chair. Delighted, I'm sure.

Chair to the Right, meet Rectangular Cushion. Also meet Extra Red Pillow from My Bed.

Also meet Insanely Large Flower Arrangement From Which the Vinka Vines Are Visibly Creeping and Threatening a Hostile Takeover of the Porch.

And that, my friends, is how, in 60,000 words or more, you turn trash into treasure.

*Okay, okay. "Mistreated" means "I used hot glue." Satisfied? It really does work. I was skeptical until I did the valances, and I'm amazed at how well they held up. I mean, how often are you moving around window treatments like that? Exactly. Hot glue holds up fine. We'll see how it works with the cushions. Maybe humidity will affect it. Maybe not. Time will tell.