Alright, last time, I told you a big, long, sad story about my bathroom. I told you how I, in all my cheapskate wisdom, installed the most inexpensive beadboard I could find in my bathroom about a year ago. I told you how that beadboard was basically an mdf board--a composite, compressed, high density paper board. And while it all looked nice for a while, it didn't take long before the kids and lots of splashing water started to take its toll. In just weeks, I was looking at puckered spots and bubbled spots and areas where the board was flaring out because it had gotten damp.
Oh, I tried everything I could to fix it and make it look nice, but this past Wednesday night, I realized the battle was lost. It was like that moment in some television show when somebody stumbles on an accident victim or a heart attack victim and then starts doing CPR. You know, they work on the body for what seems like forever with no response. And then, inevitably, someone standing by tells them to stop. Oh, they don't stop--they keep going--they're going to bring this person back. But the other person grabs them by the shoulders, shakes them, sometimes slaps them . . . and then says, in a very dramatic fashion . . . "stop . . . just stop . . . you've got to let go . . . he's gone."
And then our hero . . . still sitting on his knees beside the body, looks down, comes to term with the fact that death has won . . . and then breaks down in tears. The scene ends and we all feel like we just watched good television.
Anyway, that's what it felt like a few months ago in my bathroom. I'd tried everything I could think of to save that room--to bring it back from the dead--but Wednesday night, I realized it was done. It was over. Death had won--at least in terms of my bathroom. And so I ripped all that beadboard off the walls and threw it in the firepit. $70 dollars worth of "fake wood", $20 worth of paint, $2 worth of nails, $30 worth of trim and hours worth of time . . . all dragged and dumped in my firepit. All that money and time gone because I was too cheap to by good materials to start with--I thought I'd save money, but as is typical, I ended up wasting both time and money.
That's where we ended last time. And really, the connection to RepcoLite paints isn't really all that tough to make. Many folks--I'm not naive, I know how people think--many folks think the same way about paint that I thought about that paper beadboard. I figured, "what does it matter? Beadboard's beadboard. I don't need to have the cadillac of beadboards . . . I'll be happy with this stuff as long as it looks good."
I know that people go through those same thoughts in their head when it comes to purchasing paint: they make the same justifications: I don't need the cadillac of paints . . . after all, paint's paint . . . right? As long as it looks good, I'll be happy.
Well, as I learned with the beadboard incident--and as tons of folks through the years have learned about paint--quality does make a difference.
Buy a quality beadboard and spend the money once, do the work once, spend the time once and enjoy the results for years. Buy a cheap material and end up spending more money, doing the work at least twice and washing all that extra time and energy. Same is true with paint: buy a quality paint and sure, you'll drop maybe $5 - even $8 more a gallon--but really, when the average household paint job uses 3 - 4 gallons, you're looking at a grand total of $15 - $32 dollars extra. Oh, that's not chump change . . . I love those old sayings . . . that's not chump change . . . but it doesn't break the bank either.
Especially when you consider that a quality paint is going to apply better, quicker, easier. It's going to cover better and will likely need fewer coats. It's going to hold up better and longer. It's going to be more washable and cleanable. It's going to hold up to use and wear better. It's going to function like the premium product it is.
Sure, the cheap paint may save you money at the initial purchase, but it's not going to be long before you start to see problems. Before long, you'll be repainting--way earlier than you thought--and you'll be frustrated. You'll end up spending more money, wasting more time, buying more tools, wasting more weekends . . . than you would if you'd just buy a quality product right at the start.
Oh, I'm not blaming you . . . like I said, I do the same thing. I'm just trying to encourage you to learn from somebody who apparently has nothing better to do than to spend tons of extra money and re-do work he's already done. Learn a lesson from me and don't do what I typically do. Bite the bullet, drop the little bit of extra money now . . . and save yourself some money and time and frustration in the future. You'll be happy you did. Think about it.