The Union Jack Dresser & My Husband's Foot in Mouth Disorder

I’d first like to say that my husband Jeff is a wonderful person with a huge heart whom I love dearly. That said, he has this tragic disease that I like to call the “foot in mouth” disorder. Symptoms include turrets-like outbursts and best laid intentions and onset usually occurs at pivotal moments.
CASE STUDY:
I’m in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the Union Jack dresser when I ask Jeff to come over and help me move it toward the light so I can take photos for the advertisement. We both take a step back to admire the finished product.

He says “WOW, I really love this…”

I’m floored. What a compliment. I’d been thinking internally that this piece was a risky move, very masculine, but if he likes it then I was right…

Que the FIM... “This is the first project you’ve done that I actually really love!” he adds, enthusiastically.

Wait, whaaaaat? Typical foot in mouth move.

By this point in our relationship – luckily – I know what he meant to communicate was that this piece speaks to him in a way that my usual feminine, whimsy pieces do not. But it’s still fun to poke fun at him when he realized that the words that came out of his mouth didn’t match the thoughts going on inside his head.

But let’s get back to business. I’ve been a really big fan of the union jack style ever since I saw it on Miss Mustard Seed’s blog here but have been hesitant about putting in the work and having it sit. As my mom said, “I wish I was British so I could have it!” But it’s a “thing!” Like converse sneakers with a suit or iced coffee in the fall. It just works.

So fast forward to last weekend when I scored this Bassett chest of drawers at a yard sale at a bottom of the barrel price. So cheap it was almost free! As we loaded it into the truck, it hit me, union jack this sucker out!

Here’s the before in all it’s boring glory:

My first step was to project a flag onto the piece and sketched the lines with a pencil. I then roughly painted in the red and blue sections – totally not giving a F about being neat. Then I put my painter’s tape to the true test and posted the following image on Instagram:

The next morning I removed the tape and to my delight, I had PERFECT lines! I sent a quick peek to one of my best friends and giver of brutal honesty, Chris. This was the exchange: