From ‘Basic’ to Beauty on $2,000
Every week I read the heart-rending sagas of Southern California families, struggling to survive their remodeling experiences on a budget of more than $100,000. I, too, have a story to tell, but this is the tale of “Remodeling on the Cheap.”
One hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. In fact, it’s more than I paid for my one-bedroom, one-bathroom “starter” condominium in Mar Vista. It’s a lovely little place, about 800 square feet, with beige wool Berber carpets, a gas fireplace and a balcony.
But it was cursed with those ever-so-popular-in-the-’7Os Harvest Gold kitchen appliances, which the seller left encrusted with 10 years of filth. The dishwasher had a history of disastrous leaks. And the kitchen floor was a nightmare--if you stared at the pattern long enough, you would get seasick.
The bathroom was even less inviting: dirty white walls and ceiling, tacky chrome knobs and fixtures. It looked like the bathroom you would find in a cheap motel.
I knew there would have to be some changes before I moved in. The problem, however, was money.
After handing over my down payment, paying closing costs and putting money aside for moving expenses, all that was left over for my remodeling budget was $2,000. I was determined to find out how far I could stretch two grand.
My first move was to call in a couple of very affordable experts: my father and my good friend Sandy.
My father was born handy, and remodeling is like an addiction for him. He spent 13 years working on the house I grew up in. I spent most of my life thinking that everyone had a table saw in their family room. Pops volunteered to help with the lighting, flooring and major carpentry.
Friend Sandy is a veteran of two remodeling episodes. Her latest renovation turned a small, dark bathroom into a palace of Italian marble and pool-sized spas. My expectations were of a much less grand make-over, so without thinking, she volunteered to supervise the painting and wallpapering.
Without labor costs, every penny of my remodeling budget could be poured into materials. Creative shopping was the key. I haunted every home-improvement warehouse, every discount hardware store, every decorators’ close-out sale in town. I made my list, compared prices and watched for sales.
At one of those supermarkets of electronics stores, I found a stove for about $300, a dishwasher for about $225 and a range hood for about $40. They weren’t top-of-the-line appliances with extra gadgets and designer features, just the basics. Out went the Harvest Gold; in came black and white.
My mother always says you can’t do anything in one trip. That was certainly true for the appliances. The gas stove fitting didn’t quite match the existing hardware. Luckily, Pops knew what was needed, and I was cooking with gas with only a minor delay.
The dishwasher was a bit more difficult. The model I chose was one-eighth of an inch too tall to fit into the space under the counter. The delivery/installation man said he’d be happy to install it, but warned that the entire thing would shake itself to pieces in a matter of months. Back to the store for a smaller model. Luckily, the $35 delivery/installation charge covered both visits.
The black and white were dynamic, but the kitchen needed a touch of warmth, a touch of personality. “Pink,” I cried! I prowled the dusty bins of a downtown decorator warehouse that was going out of business and found three rolls of wallpaper with tiny pink and green flowers on a white background. Then I found four rolls of a wonderfully textured peach wallpaper with a forest-green plaid running throughout. It was perfect for the bathroom. Total price for all seven rolls: $30.
The kitchen floor had to go. Pops suggested the “flooring by the roll” variety, so I took my wallpaper sample and kitchen floor measurements to find something I both liked and could afford. Affordability turned out to be less of a problem than trying to fit the darned thing into the back of a Honda hatchback.
Pops spent a Saturday stripping away the old floor and gluing down the new.
The bathroom floor was also a nightmare, so Sandy suggested I go in search of carpet remnants. I wandered through the back rooms of several carpet stores before finding just the shade of forest green to match the wallpaper. For less than $50, I had enough carpet to cover the bathroom floor twice. The next step was trying to make it fit.
Back at the condo, I laid newspapers all over the floor, taping the seams together, and cutting around the toilet and sink. What I had left was one giant pattern of the bathroom floor. Then, Exacto knife in hand, I carefully laid my pattern down on top of the carpet and cut away. Two-sided tape secured my inexpensive new floor covering to the existing tile. From the remaining carpet, I cut out a second pattern, to replace the first one sometime in the future.
New kitchen lighting was also a must. A not-too-fancy wood-framed fluorescent fixture was $70. A new medicine cabinet was another $20. A new deadbolt was about $15. All were installed by my father.
So while Sandy smacked around wallpaper paste and handy father was being handy, what was I doing? I painted the bathroom ceiling, door and cabinet. I added a peach tone to all the floorboards. I washed down the kitchen cupboards and re-treated the wood. I chipped away at the old, dirty caulking in the bathtub and around the kitchen sink.
Now it was time for final touches: off-white ceramic towel bars and toilet paper holder for the bathroom, rehanging my old ceiling fan in the bedroom and replacing every one of the 34 knobs.
My mother is a stickler for interesting looking knobs on cupboards and unique buttons on clothing. She always maintains that it’s the little touches that gave things class. So I spent the remaining loot (about $35) on knobs--brass ones for the hall, peach ones for the bathroom, white ones for the kitchen.
And then the money was gone. My remodeling was completed in about a month. That was a year ago, and I’ve been enjoying my first investment in California real estate. Brokers keep tapping on my door, asking if they can show my place to clients as an example of “how cute” one of these “basic” condos can be fixed up. I just smile and nod, thinking of how my $2,000 remodeling investment will be paid back many times over when I’m ready to move beyond basic.
Remodeling on the cheap, indeed!
READERS WELCOME TO SHARE THEIR REMODELING TALES
Readers wishing to share their remodeling experiences should send queries or manuscripts to Real Estate Editor, Los Angeles Times, Times Mirror Square, Los Angeles 90053.
