Author: doodlejuicedesign

The story of the chest of drawers is not about hidden value or skills used. It is a simple story of how, with imagination, you can take something from boring to amazing. And the particularly nice thing was this was all client led!

The story starts with a pine chest of drawers, stained dark brown. The type that was very popular in the late 1990s and this example is of that vintage. It was in good condition and has served its purpose well. But like many bits of similar furniture, it was in the spare bedroom, unloved.

The client has a daughter who was in the process of moving into her first proper bed and having her first proper bedroom. And what any aspiring two-year-old needs is a decent chest of drawers. But not brown and boring! Something much more chic! Something Elsa and Anna would be proud of! (Frozen – come on, catch up!).

“Can you help? I have got this idea in my head….”. We like this type of call.

Amersham is a funny old place. From Tudor Old Amersham to Metroland Amersham on the Hill reflecting John Betjeman and the 1930s. Hidden in the ‘new’ bit is a great shop called Jack & Atticus run by Scott – www.jackandatticus.co.uk. At the centre of J & A beats an upcycling heart. They sell specialist paints, and they practise what they preach; regularly reimagining pieces of furniture with their own paints and selling them through the shop. I say this because I meet the client at J & A and we start to chat about her imagined image for the chest of drawers. 

The photos tell the rest of story. The dusty pink creates a great canvas. The metallic lining stands out, and the porcelain handles just bring it alive. The colouring of the handles matches the pink and the gold on the rims which harmonises with the metallic paint on the drawers. All paints and handles purchased from J & A.

For us it was lovely to work with the client and bring her ideas to reality.

In the Gallery there are a couple of photos of a 1930’s standard lamp that has been “transformed”. Sometimes you have to practice what you preach, and we are the proud owners of the lamp. Enough said! The hall table is pretty funky too. We made a mistake on the table – sold it way too cheap.

The box in question has some history. We believe it was made by my Grandfather’s Uncle as part of his apprenticeship as a cabinet maker; sometime in the late 1800’s. The box came to me via my Mum. We took it to Australia with us and the heat didn’t do it too many favours. By 2019, somewhere around 140 years since it was made it sat there looking very sorry for itself. The glue had failed in places and the lid was in four pieces. The sun had bleached the colour from the wood. The veneer had come away in several places. All a bit sad.

The first task was to take it apart and inspect each part and develop a game plan. Pleasingly, the actual level of damage was minimal apart from where the lid had fallen apart. One lovely surprise was taking off the very worn pink velvet material on the bottom of the box. Underneath was a piece of padding cardboard which had a signature scrawled in pencil on it. We can’t say for certain that the signature was that of my Grandad’s Uncle, but we like to think that it is.

Re-gluing curved wood is often a nightmare as it is not always easy to get the jigs in place to hold it perfectly.  The old glue came off ok which was a nice surprise. Old dental tools are brilliant for this task. We chose to use a modern wood glue over hot ‘stinky’ glue. This ups the ante to get it right first time, but we felt this was the way to go given the box was to live in a centrally heated house. Once this was done the loose veneer was fixed and we were comfortable that we had restored the integrity of the box. Time to focus on how it looked.

My Aunt recalls that the box was originally a red oak colour and we could detect some traces of this. We therefore used a wood stain featuring red oak in the cocktail to address the sun bleaching and create an even colour. We then French polished the external surfaces to recreate its original finish. The inside was originally black, so we used an ebony wood dye to refresh it. All the brass fittings were cleaned, and polished, and green baize replaced the pink velvet on the bottom. A piece of blue ribbon on the key finished the job.

Restoring pieces for others is a great thing to do, but there is something very special restoring something that a member of your family made many years ago.

I mentioned earlier that we had a good relationship with Rich Cutler, a joiner and cabinet maker operating in the Bovingdon area. Rich is a great provider of knowledge, coffee and off cuts. We were chatting and I said I need some oak with character. He looks at me with one of those looks; a look that says do I like you enough to share a secret…

Now, I am not saying I was blindfolded, and the car had blacked out windows, but I received this call saying to meet Rich at a certain time and a specific place. He was going to introduce me to someone, a character. Wouldn’t go into any more detail. 

Picture the scene. Two acres of land covered in wood planks, bits of wood, out houses full of wood, a sawmill, a forge, several forgotten sheds and in the middle of this is a man. He is ageless. Could be 60, could be 70, could be 80. Who knows and no one was going to ask! The man is a bit of a legend. He built the sawmill, he built the forge, he built everything there! He lumbered the planks from mighty trees. He is a blacksmith, a wheelwright, a joiner, the list goes on. 

After introductions I am allowed to wander about and pick up whatever bits of wood ‘take my fancy’. I return half an hour later, negotiate and hand over cash.  I leave with some lovely pieces of seasoned oak covered in dirt, still showing the sawmill marks.

The wood has gone to several good uses but one of my favourites is making a number of beautiful chopping boards and serving platters. The photos show a selection. They are all finished with three coats of a food safe mineral oil. They are very tactile and will last for years.  They are a joy to make and generally fly out the door. Handmade humble chopping boards – who would ever think they would become the thing we just can’t make enough of.

Picture the scene. A nest of tables given to you following the death of an elderly relative. You like them but not sure what to do with them. They go into the garage which doubles up as Dr Who’s Tardis. Time just passes….

Then out of nowhere they re-enter your consciousness. You get your partner to “find them” and several swearing sessions later, he returns, and they are there in front of you; except they don’t look quite as fresh as you remember. Emmm…what to do?

One of the tables, the one in the worst condition, arrives at the workshop, together with its owner and the story. “Can you have a go and restore it, on a best-efforts basis” she asks?

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The table is made of beech, with a teak veneer top. The design is striking, elegant, 1950s. The varnish finish on the veneer top is shot. It looks “a bit crook”. Now, experience tells you sanding a veneer top is not a good idea. The veneer is usually very thin, and it will vanish before your eyes. Scraping is the way to go. Takes a while, and you have to be patient, but the results usually reward your efforts. In this particular case the results were spectacular!  From a mist of opaque and cracked varnish emerged a beautiful piece of teak veneer. 

Flushed with success we scrapped the varnish from the beech frame and behold, a beautiful table. The other surprise was the integrity of all the glued joints. They were all solid! Having cleaned the frame, applied the top three coats of clear Danish oil and a coat of beeswax polish, we sat back and went “Wow”. Now, you will not be surprised to learn that the other two remaining tables arrived at the workshop soon after, and the final photo shows them back with their owner.

All good. However, there is an interesting twist to this story. When they arrived at the workshop the table’s origins were not known. They looked 1950/1960 in style but where they came from and who made them was a mystery. Once they were restored their owner started a quest to find out their history. We are now very confident that they are Danish and the work of Bengt Ruda, a prominent Danish designer in the 1950’s. They are fairly rare and to prove a point there is a set for sale in Amsterdam at the time I write this, yours for Euro595.00. 

The tale of two dogs started off as a simple request from a mate. This particular mate had moved to Yorkshire, bought a beautiful house in the Dales in an isolated hamlet and had just renovated the kitchen and utility room. She also has two Labradors who are lovely; Caspar and Milton (don’t ask!).

“I need a set of hooks for the dog leads, four hooks. Nothing poncy, to go in the utility room. I’m not made of money. What can you do?” 

Following a couple of FaceTime calls it became clear that her original idea was something in painted wood with chrome hooks. However, the beginnings of a cunning idea started to form in the depths of the workshop. “Send me a couple of photos of the dogs, head shots.” I ask.

What if we could take the photos and create silhouettes of each dog so she would be able to recognise them. If we could use the silhouettes to cut the heads into a nice piece of oak, then we have the basis of something functional but lovely.

There are times when having a great idea and executing that great idea, are miles apart. This was one of those times. Creating the silhouettes from the photos to actually look like the dogs took an age. When artistic talent was being handed out, I must have been out of the room. Anyway, we got to something that worked well enough. Now we just needed to make it out of wood. 

The piece of oak was an offcut from a window cill. Once the basic pieces had been cut from the window cill leftovers, we cut the outline of each dog’s head with a fret saw by hand. The ears were particularly pleasing!  The final piece was sanded to an ultra-smooth surface (with a 400 grit, if you are into the detail) and finished with a few coats of Danish Oil. 

Now, the observant reader will notice to date there has been no mention of hooks. 10 marks for artistic content but 0 for functionality. We quickly decided chrome hooks didn’t quite cut it. Also, dog leads are thick, so the hooks needed to have an opening of at least 20mm. I remember that I had seen an advert for a blacksmith somewhere in deepest Wales who specialised in making hooks. Aren’t search engines wonderful things! We bought a selection of hooks online and two days later had a ‘what hook works best’ competition in the kitchen. The spade hooks won.

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The final photo is the piece duly fitted to the utility room wall, with leads hanging. We think it looks pretty good, not too poncy at all. Even for the Yorkshire Dales. Perhaps the most important thing after the hooks being big enough is that even Caspar and Milton know which silhouette is which.  

The Edwardian umbrella stand had seen better days. Originally made of oak with a painted dark green drip tray it must have looked bonny sitting in the hall of someone’s house in the 1920’s and 30’s. 

Now we must confess, we cannot remember how it came into our world. But it is fair to say we didn’t treat it well. For a number of years, it acted as a log store. However, on returning from Australia we felt enough was enough and it was time it received a bit of love. Ok, we had to build the workshop first and sort out a load of other stuff, but the intention was there. 

I remember bringing it in the workshop and, having vacuumed years of dirt off and looking at it with a critical eye, it didn’t look pretty. The drip tray was a rust bucket. Woodworm had made a start and bits of it were damaged or missing. But it was still standing, and Helen said it had “potential”.

It is amazing what a bit of soap, water and a soft brush will do. We now knew the oak frame could be saved but the drip tray still looked a sorry state, so we focused on that first. Wire wool and 3 in 1 oil, applied with a bit of love and patience, can bring a smile to the face. The rust melted away and we were left with a tray that had enough integrity to make the decision to keep it easy. 

The oak frame received a woodworm treatment to give us comfort, even though the woodworm damage looked old. We then cut away the damage parts and fitted new pieces of oak using some offcuts we had. Once the glue was dry and inserts were shaped to blend,, we ‘hot waxed’ the few remaining woodworm holes and lo and behold – the umbrella stand looked in one piece to fight another day.

Now came a big decision – do we restore it to its original colours – painting the drip tray green and staining the inserts to match to original oak and repolishing. Or do we go bold and paint the whole thing in a stylish manner? It was a close call, but Helen had this vision of a grey umbrella stand, with a satin black drip tray. Her logic was that few houses would benefit from having a repaired dark oak umbrella stand in their hall, whereas something in fashionable grey and suitably waxed, would. Something to do with fashion – what do I know; but decision made.

The photos show the end result. The grey paint is chalk based with a wax finish. The drip tray is sprayed satin black – rust resistant paint. The magical bit was highlighting parts of the design with an ‘antique copper’ paint. A little goes a long way; you don’t need much – but it transformed the umbrella stand from “not too shabby mate” to “you beauty!”.

What did we get wrong? It didn’t end up in someone’s hall. It was snapped up by a local Amersham restaurant and now sits proudly by their front door.