Dark Paint & Imposter Syndrome

You did it! Congratulations! World’s best dark paint. Great job, everybody! It’s great to be here.

If that quote didn’t spark joy, then you need to question your priorities. 

But really, I found the world’s best dark paint and I strongly believe it is incredibly underrated. Listen, I love Tricorn Black and Iron Ore just as much as the next gal, but it’s a true struggle when you don’t want a true black nor a brown/grey situation. Especially when there’s a lot of light hitting the walls, there’s no hiding the undertones you may want more subdued. I also must mention the magic of Railings by Farrow & Ball, but we already know this and I think it’s time to mix it up already. I struggle with them anyway because it can stretch the budget if there’s a lot of space to cover and you’ll have to wait for the samples. Being somewhat indecisive and needing 17 color options, even just the samples would break the bank.

So, I may have been hiding under a rock so sorry if this is old news, but the new love of my life is Noir by Valspar. I originally found this perfect paint when I was going through the classic 2020 ~paint your room~ phase at peak pandemic season. I also went through the ~dye your hair blonde with a box kit from Target~ phase, but I digress. I really wanted a dark moody wall, but didn’t want it to read blue or brown or green or gray (aka a color), but didn’t want a true black either. My room also gets a lot of sun so, like I said, the undertones would be out and ready to play. Although Noir definitely lives on a cool blue scale, you don’t think blue when you see it. It simply feels moody. And I fell in love.

Accent Wall: Noir by Valspar (near death experience by extension ladder). I built the nightstands as well and of course had to paint them Noir because I have obsessive tendencies.

White walls are Swiss Coffee. I know it’s not unique but if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, am I right?

Back in August, I started working on a project making over a pool room and decided the room needed to go fully dark. Typically, this space would lean more towards a sun room or a living room, but the client wanted to dedicate it to his incredible career in the Air Force, a challenge I happily accepted. He was intrigued by the idea, but didn’t want it turning into a “black hole”. But with the high ceilings, light walls everywhere else, and tons of natural light, I assured him the moody atmosphere would ground the area and make it its own space. A few weeks later, paint day came along and I was on the edge of my seat the whole day waiting to see it (I’m not kidding). I believed everything I told him, but in the back of my head, I really was so nervous. The decision was made, the painters were there, and I was second guessing the whole plan (for no valid reason, I might add). What if painting all the walls ended up being too much? What if it felt too different from the neighboring rooms? What if he hates it? But, the next day when we walked into the new space, we officially verified the magic of my sweet Noir. 

Pool Room Rendering

Built-in was cut for live edge shelves and art!

Photo from day one!

Sneak Peek

The room is still undergoing the face lift but loving the progress and receipts will be released soon!

However delighted I am now by Noir (I’ll never stop talking about it) (by Valspar), there was definitely more behind it. I knew I loved it in my room and felt pretty confident in that decision, but per usual, I was doubting myself. All of the concepts and reasonings I was explaining to the client were valid and I truly believed in my words, but I still felt like a bit of a fraud. Almost like I was pretending to know what I was doing. It’s in the most random moments when suddenly you’re flooded with these nagging uncertainties. Who knew paint selections could send someone into an existential crisis?

Thinking back now on the Noir debacle (by Valspar) amongst other moments of insecurity, I ended up identifying this beast: imposter syndrome. Initially, I was worried that writing about topics like this could give the impression that I wasn’t experienced or worth investing in. But I know both are false and establishing this platform would be pointless if I wasn’t transparent. 

Let’s be honest here, I’m sure the majority of us have gone through or are going through this, especially the more artistic types or new business owners (as opposed to, perhaps, our delightful finance bros who I’m sure have enough confidence to go around). You always hear “fake it til you make it”, which can honestly be useful at times but think the saying may be misinterpreted. It gives the impression that you’re faking it for everyone else, when I think it’s actually just faking it for yourself.

This concept has followed me through many phases of my life, whether that may be auditioning for Broadway shows just after graduating, selling pieces of woodwork after simply teaching myself the basics, working at a design firm without formal education in the field, or especially deciding to create my own company. Even writing “company” feels uncomfortable, because there’s still that voice saying to be cautious in case it doesn't work out. It’s the same old story, where successes often feel like fooling people into believing it was deserved or happened only because of some other person or circumstance. That no matter how hard you worked or how well it turned out, it wasn’t fully yours to claim.

The first time I drafted my own design fee proposal, I literally called my mother saying “it feels like I’m STEALING!”. She cackled, told me I was doing a job, and to get over myself. Creating prices that appropriately reflect quality work has always been difficult and took some major self-convincing that my work is worthy of the cost. It was horrifying to charge more than $10 for shelves when I started woodworking, but I quickly started charging more as my profit margins were in the negatives. It probably doesn’t help that when I show my mom something from a project, she says “wow it’s almost like you’re a real life designer!”. Like when my brother brews his own beer and she says “wow it tastes like real beer!”. She suffers from imposter syndrome by proxy.

The only solution I’ve found in my twenty five years is to keep going and let the work speak for itself (and take Bonnie’s compliments with a grain of salt). Reminds me of the quote from last week: “you do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you”. So anytime you’re doubting yourself, judging your work, or feeling like a fraud, focus on the work instead. If I always told myself I was an imposter, I would’ve never sold custom woodwork, worked on incredible designs, or even published this website. I still have reservations and doubts, which can actually be useful in moderation, but I will keep following my instincts and enjoying the process anyway. And at some point, I’ll feel confident assuring someone to paint their room dark.

But for now, I will rely on the true hype girl with ultimate finance bro confidence: Noir by Valspar.

Stay tuned for next week’s post about how people somehow smother design styles with gender (and everything else in this damn country) and other queer fun!