When we first saw the dining room in our Portland home, I knew exactly where our vintage French poster belonged. We’d discovered it ten years ago at the Alameda flea market and swooped it up, knowing it would be front and center in our future home.
Folks, this is the dining room before.
And this is the dining room after.
The poster gave us a starting point, but we had more to tackle. First up: the wood. The 100-year-old Douglas fir millwork was breathtaking, but the dark brown stain made the room feel a little glum. Seriously, if I could time-travel back to 1914, I’d preach “Don’t stain it brown!” from the rooftops—and likely be locked away.
We hired a crew to sand the millwork back and clear-coat it. The wood now has a warm, honey-like finish, and the room feels lighter without losing its history.
Next came the table, rug, and chairs. We wanted guests to linger long after dessert, so comfort mattered as much as how everything looked.
The table came first. This is a big room, and it needed a big table. We sourced two walnut slabs from Pendleton, Oregon, and had them made into a generously sized dining table. I could already picture dinner parties that stretch into the evening—and Halloween candy trading spread across it.
Then we found the rug. Its reds and yellows pick up the colors in the poster, while its warm, rustic feel sits comfortably alongside the wood. We went large on purpose. My number-one rule for a dining rug is to give the chairs room to pull out and still stay on the rug. Otherwise, sitting down can become an awkward little balancing act.
For the chairs, we chose barrel backs that echo the round record in the poster. Their curves soften a room that could otherwise feel quite masculine. I wanted them to look sculptural from across the great room, then feel cozy when you actually sat down.
Last came the light fixture. The original was too small and didn’t feel like us. I sourced one that complements the art and helps the dining area feel like its own place within the larger great room.
Now we love staying at the table after the plates are cleared, sipping wine and putting on records. That’s what I wanted from this room: somewhere beautiful, yes, but also somewhere we’d want to be.
If you have a room with wonderful pieces that aren’t quite working together, my Signature Design Day is one way to explore the layout and direction. Tell me about your room, and we can start with what you want to happen there.
