It became immediately apparent that this was not going to be easy. When I first walked into my rental bedroom I cringed. Nine feet by eleven feet of beige walls.
Beige carpet. A single window that looked onto another building’s brick wall. TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS.
That was my furniture budget. All.
Caps.
There I stood, tape measure in hand, repeatedly measuring the width of one beige wall three different ways, hoping for the number to change. Spoiler alert: it did not. But honestly, working within that limitation inspired creativity I never would’ve mustered had I a limitless bank account.
I started at Facebook Marketplace. Where I quickly discovered people will sell you the strangest things. Like how Margaret was selling me this beautiful wooden nightstand because she was moving into assisted living.
Turns out she had painted it white twenty years prior for $15. It was beautiful underneath the cracked white paint, still showing the lovely wood grains. I spent my first night in the flat carefully sanding down the layers of paint while binging Netflix, happily lost in my own miniature woodshop.
I made mistake number one when I purchased the fancy shmancy paint stripper. I justified it because “Oh man, Jill this is going to save you so much time!” Forty-three dollars later, it worked maybe 10% better than good ol’ sandpaper. Don’t do what I did; spend the time and sand baby sand.
So, anyway. That nightstand became my statement piece. Once I had sanded and restained it (another twelve bones for wood stain) I had to design my room around that warm honey tone.
Trust me, when decorating on a budget, buy something you love first. Then build around that. Fresh paint was my next money maker.
Twenty-eight bucks later I had a quart of this dreamy dusty blue called “Stormy Sky.” I know, it sounds like something straight out of a murder mystery, but trust me when I say this blue had the chillest vibes. I painted just the wall behind my bed, turning it into what the cool kids call an accent wall and what I like to call “painting as much impact with as little paint as possible.” The remaining walls stayed beige. Leaving just that one blue wall actually made the room feel high-end, instead of cheap.
One of my favourite tricks I learned with painting that blue wall: You don’t have to paint every wall in a small space to brighten it up. That dark blue became my focal point, and it instantly made my bedroom feel bigger and more thought-out. Pro tip: If you only paint one wall, your landlord can’t yell at you about it 😉.
The bed I picked out was equally as creative. Craigslist had introduced me to this gently-used mattress that I “pledged” I would only spend sixty dollars on. (Let’s be real. I sanitized the ever-loving crap out of that mattress.) Bed frames, on the other hand.
Bed frames were a luxary I could not afford. So I built one. Sort of.
I purchased fourteen concrete blocks from Home Depot. Eight dollars a pop. I put two rows of those suckers on the floor and laid two long pieces of reclaimed wood on top.
Twenty dollars later I cut the wood to size at Home Depot and boom. Suddenly I had this affordable West Elm-y desk frame that actually looked like it could hold a queen-sized mattress. And bonus: My friends were legitimately curious WHERE I bought it from.
Oh, and those concrete blocks? Storage. Perchance to dream.
Suddenly I had tons of hidden storage under my bed thanks to those bad boys. Perfect for out-of-season clothing stored in plastic bins! String lights were my lifesaver.
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That damn overhead light made shadows on everything. Shadows that made the room feel cheap and unwelcoming. Like I was being interrogated.
So I bought string lights. Hotel style string lights. But the warm white kind with a timer?
Eighteen dollars and they hooked around my window frame and hung down from where my faux headboard would sit (two wooden planks of wood screwed into the wall, painted “Stormy Sky” blue.) BOOM. Now I had dimension. Now I had layers to my lighting.
Suddenly my room went from boring and blah to moody and modern. Even during the day, my warm white lights made my room feel more cozy. Oh man.
Hours were spent Sundays roaming local thrift stores. Saturday morning became my personal treasure map hunting hours. Armed with measurements on my hand, I found the cutest little bookshelf two feet wide for eight bucks that I spray painted white to match the walls.
I found this darling mirror with an intricate wooden carved frame for twelve dollars that bounced light off of my blue wall from across the room. I found mismatched rugs at antique stores to layer together. SO MUCH FUN.
But my favourite thrift score was actually this dumb pineapple ceramic lamp base I found. Five bucks. No lamp shade. “I know!
I’ll just make my own lampshade!” So I bought a plain white lamp shade at Target and utilised leftover fabric from another project to create this brand spankin’ new lamp that I’m pretty sure winked at me. Storage was key in a tiny space. So I made my own floating shelves.
All you need is some L-brackets and pine boards. Twelve dollars for three lovely shelves that I hung at varying heights on my wall to store books, plants, and random trinkets I found at thrift stores. I bought two large plants too!
Plants are the cheapest way to bring life to any space. Spider plants don’t cost a thing. Heck.
My neighbour just gave me a cutting and now I have THREE adorable plants cascading off of my shelves. THREE YEARS LATER and my biggest splurge was probably the curtains. Ok, yes.
I HAD to have curtains. But instead of buying ready-made window treatments I bought remnants of fabric in cream with a linen-like texture for twenty-four dollars and hemmed them myself. Hanging them higher than my window frame and pulling it across so it was wider than my wall also made both my window and wall appear larger.
All in all I spent $197. I felt like I lived in a completely different room. Warm, instead of sterile.
Personalized.
Cozy. My friends started asking to borrow my nightstand that I “ONLY paid $15 for” unaware it came from someone else’s garage sale.
Designers, I’m sure, would laugh at my faux pas. But I had created a space that made ME happy, and that’s all that matters. Lesson learned?
Don’t sacrifice patience and creativity for instant gratification. If you truly LOVE every item in your home it makes the space that much more intentional than anything you’ll find at a furniture store. (Although hey if you got a killer West Elm coupon, use it!)] Would I change anything? Probably splurge less on that paint stripper.
And measure my damn door frame before buying bookshelves because shoving that thing up our insanely narrow staircase wasn’t fun…and I don’t want to repeat that. ** *See how th only things I bought new were paint and a lampshade? Cheapskate. **See how I managed to tie this blog together? Plot twist: I’m actually kind of a writer.
