Winnetka Colonial Chronicles, Part 5

When we last left the 1925 colonial in Winnetka, the exterior of the house was shaping up and much progress was happening on the interior. We are now ready to take you inside to see one of our hardest-working little rooms, the 2nd floor laundry. One common feature of old homes is that laundry machines are almost always located in the (chilly, dreary) basement. This house was no exception. To accommodate today's lifestyle, we set out to relocate the laundry to the second floor, but we faced one minor challenge. We left ourselves in the planning phase with a whopping 40 square feet and no room for error (gulp).

To start, we have a rectangular space that measures 8 x 5 feet, in the middle of the 2nd floor and at the top of the center stairwell which divides the house in half. A king-size bed is a little bigger than the space we have to work in, so no swing door is possible. We opted for a sliding barn door for space-saving and design purposes. Here's one half of the laundry room:

Mounting the machines on pedestals offers good ergonomics for loading and unloading the laundry as well as extra storage. A client let us repurpose the mini crystal flushmount on the ceiling when she no longer needed it. It's the perfect size and  a good use of surplus lighting fixtures. Who says your laundry room can't have a little glamour?      

Here's the other half of the laundry room:

Lower and upper cabinets with a durable quartz top help make this compact laundry room punch above its weight class with regard to elegant storage. Yet another generous client donated the glass door cabinets, and repurposing them here was better than sending them to the landfill.

The tile is from Akdo, the only splurge in this laundry room. It's porcelain and can take some abuse, but without sacrificing the visual interest. 

Readers of this blog might remember Winnetka Colonial Chronicles Part 3 in which I lovingly restored the old front door to this shining black beauty after many hours of sanding, priming, waiting 24 hours for it to dry, applying the base coat, waiting another 24 hours, sanding again, three coats of oil paint, and so forth until I never wanted to see another door in need of refinishing again. Did I also tell you how many people adored my jet black door? Zero. It was a bitter defeat for high-gloss black door fans everywhere. All three of you.  

Sometimes one door closes and another opens, this time in Dutch oil Tulip Red.

Feast your eyes on the most expensive and labor-intensive door I've ever touched. First black, now fire-engine red. The only way to rationalize this sort of (mis)adventure is to say "art before commerce" and find an adult beverage. Or six.  

Feast your eyes on the most expensive and labor-intensive door I've ever touched. First black, now fire-engine red. The only way to rationalize this sort of (mis)adventure is to say "art before commerce" and find an adult beverage. Or six.  

High gloss oil paint is bananas. A total pain in the neck to work with when compared to latex paints, but the depth of color and sheen is unbeatable. It's mounted. I'm not refinishing it a third time. So there.

High gloss oil paint is bananas. A total pain in the neck to work with when compared to latex paints, but the depth of color and sheen is unbeatable. It's mounted. I'm not refinishing it a third time. So there.

We're heading into the home stretch on this project, and we'll follow up with the next installment of Winnetka Colonial Chronicles in 2017. In the meantime, we hope you all enjoy the holidays this month! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Remodeling and Home Design