From school gym to work table

At the start of the year, I decided I needed a desk. All my activities—writing for work, blogging, painting, sewing, and the new kid on the block, calligraphy—took on the dining table, and that wasn't working for me anymore. In winter, the dining room was hard to heat because of its size and its proximity to the outside hallway, so I would end up taking my laptop with me into bed... and not getting anything done! A proper desk would give me a place to build a routine around and would be great for my productivity. 

I knew what I wanted: a desk that was at least 1.5 meters, longer than it was deep, with space for me to do more than just one thing at a time. It had to have a tabletop that I wouldn't mind staining with paint or ink, made of a warm material (no metal, no laminate). It had to have character—possibly used, preferably vintage—but clean lines. It had to be something we could repurpose as a console or buffet table if we ever needed the space it would take up in the guest room. Finally, it had to be something I would want to take back with me if we ever moved back home (so no Ikea). 

So I started looking around—thus the trips to Van Dijk en Ko, the IJ-Hallen flea market, and more. I constantly referred to my little collection of home offices on Pinterest to keep me on track. I saw a lot of desks that were tempting, but not quite there—too deep, too low, too short, too expensive. 

Then my friend Karyn, who shares my love for old and repurposed things, drove me to the little town of Baarn, just 20 minutes out of Amsterdam, to visit J. van Ijken Oude Bouwmaterialen. Oude bouwmaterialen means old building materials, and that was exactly what Mr. van Ijken had for sale—an entire hectare filled with old floors, doors, windows, tiles, tubs, gates, knobs, bricks, fireplaces, you name it. All of it reclaimed from homes, ships, churches, schools, bridges, train stations and more, waiting to be found by odd people who love old things with character. Like me.

When we walked into a warehouse filled with old floorboards, I was immediately seized by a wild thought. If I couldn't find my perfect desk... should I just build it?

These are the kinds of thoughts you have after living more than a year in a country and culture where everyone does everything themselves. You hear about people building houses and you start to think, it can't be that hard.

This old herringbone floor from Hungary reminded me of a beautiful herringbone desk I had seen on Pinterest, and inflamed my confidence. "Yes," it whispered. "Just build it." 

Then I saw just the thing. Old hardwood planks from a school gym in Holland, for €60 per square meter. Pops of color. Lots of character. Perfect.

Finding the wood spurred me into action. That afternoon, I picked up a pair of clean, shiny chrome Vika Moliden legs from Ikea for €25 apiece. I got Marlon on board (you didn't think I was going to build this all by myself, did you?), and we agreed to rent a car and come back for the planks.

The following weekend, the owner himself, Jan van Ijken, helped me select the pieces that had this old colorful tape. I'd hoped I could have the tabletop built there and just cart it home in the car, but he was very clear about that not being his business. "I supply the wood," he said firmly and gruffly (but not rudely). He did help me cut the planks into my desired length of 1.5 meters, so thanks, Mr. van Ijken!

After purchasing some wood glue and a small power sander, it was time to build my work table.

At home, Marlon and I laid out ten planks in my preferred order until we got to a depth of 75cm. It didn't turn out exactly like this in the end, because some pieces didn't fit together. But that was okay.

 

Marlon glued, then hammered the parts together. While we waited for them to dry, I contemplated how handy it is to have a husband who can actually build you something. Not to mention hot. Oops, maybe I shouldn't have said that.

Then I helped Marlon put in three short planks across the underside of the desk—gluing, hammering, then drilling and screwing in nails for extra support. This took place over a week; since our downstairs neighbor has a baby who goes to bed at seven, we couldn't hammer or drill in the evenings.

The ends of the Ikea legs were big and round, as you can see on the left, so we couldn't have the legs flush with the tabletop as I preferred without some metal peeking out. My resourceful hubby replaced them with these thin metal... things (I'm sorry, we're new to this stuff) that he found at a hardware store.

It took just a few minutes of drilling and screwing to put the legs on...

... but a lot of power sanding and polishing to remove splinters and old scuff marks. I didn't entirely remove the latter, but I was fine with that. Then we moved the finished work table into its designated spot in front of the window in the guest room. 

Here it is today, my little work corner in the (rare) sunshine. Since I saved quite a bit on the desk, I plan to treat myself to a nice chair, but for now I'm happy to use the old wooden chair we found on the street. It goes well with the weathered wood tabletop.

I'm so happy with my new desk! I like that it makes a nice background for photographing things (like my googoo&gaga onesies and Mucha notebook). And I am so proud of Marlon. It's not perfect, but has a lovely story. I love that if someone asks me, "Where did you get your desk?" I can reply: "My husband built it for me out of reclaimed flooring from a school gym in Holland!" Priceless.