Another lost weekend

Fabulous DIY results in two days, says the book. Not if you're useless, says a paint-splattered CAYTE WILLIAMS

Unless you've been living in an igloo you will have noticed that we have become obsessed with tarting up our homes. Which was fine when everything was minimalist and all you needed was white emulsion, but sadly that's no longer enough. Suddenly we're in the era of new romanticism and no wall, door or floor can be left untouched by flowers, dots, squares or scribbles.

What's a girl without a practical bone in her body to do? Then I came upon the In A Weekend books, which has just published its latest, Cupboards & Doors In A Weekend by Deena Beverley. This is DIY for beginners, with a step-by-step guide to how to create each look in a recipe-style format with timescales and an "ingredients" list of tools. The cooking analogy is no coincidence - there is no doubt which gender this book is targeting.

As every cook knows, the proof of the pudding is in the eating and the only way I'm going to find out whether these recipes work is to put them to the test. The easiest tart-up is for transforming a plain door. The ingredients include things like wood stainer, acrylic paints and a self- adhesive door panelling kit, and the total bill came in at just over pounds 43 - not including the paint. So was it worth it?

Day one, first thing: Book instructs me to remove door handle and prepare door. Mark position of panels. Apply panels.

11am: Race to B&Q with MPS (massively practical sister). Stop for bacon sandwich due to hangover. Realise we have 10 minutes to get the stuff before Craig the photographer arrives. Get everything except liquid sander, which B&Q doesn't sell.

12pm: Craig arrives. Drink tea. Recall that I'm supposed to be tarting up a door. Try to take off handles but impossible. Even MPS can't work it out. Move swiftly on to applying self-adhesive door panels which come with instructions you need a degree in Pythagorean law to understand. MPS realises that I am a lost cause and slopes off to comfy chair with good book. No amount of cream cake bribery will entice her back into DIY hell.

I discover the panel instructions are no use because my door's measurements are too small for their guidelines. Get out set square and work out where the panels should go. I rope Craig in for help and, by the time we've finished, the door looks like it's been doodled on by someone who can't do curves. Eventually we stick on the panelling and stand back to admire our work. One of them is wonky.

Afternoon: Paint layers of base colour on the door and architrave.

3pm: I'm well behind schedule. Apply first layer of cream emulsion paint and wait for it to dry. Eat Chinese takeaway. Door looks dead posh, so it's time to ruin it with the tarting-up process. I mix a "tiny amount" of raw umber wood stainer as per instructions into lavender emulsion. This should achieve an "age-softened look" but the paint just looks darker. Apply to door, allowing a slight amount of the base coat to show through.

6pm: I'm bored. This is just like watching paint dry. In fact, it is watching paint dry.

8pm: Time to mix mauve emulsion paint 50:50 with water and apply with a broad brush. Craig has to go home because he has a life.

Day two, morning: Project, mark out and paint text and flower motifs on to door.

11am: Get out of bed. I'm behind schedule and have to add last dabbing of cream paint to make the door look distressed. Craig is wishing he'd stayed in bed while MPS is not being helpful. "Seems an awful lot of fuss over a door," she says. Consider painting MPS cream. At least she would look distressed.

2pm: Find quotes to personalise the door as suggested. Try Dorothy Parker but decide bitter epigrams don't work on loo doors, so I find www.famousquotations.com on the internet. Craig and I start arguing over suitable words of wisdom. "Why don't you just write `The Loo'?" offers MPS. We send MPS out for vodka and fags.

4pm: DIY dementia sets in. We get suitable quotes by Mae West and ancient poet Horace (nice mixture of bawdiness and pretension suitable for a bathroom door). "Better to be looked over than overlooked," growls Mae, while Horace reckons you should mingle some brief folly with your wisdom.

5.30pm: I'm supposed to outline the lettering on an acetate sheet, place it on a projector and focus the enlarged image on to my freshly painted door. Instead I get some copper acrylic paint and write my quotes in free hand after drawing them in pencil first. It looks dreadful, but MPS and Craig approve. Do I care?

Afternoon: Rub down motifs. Varnish door and architrave. Affix new handle.

6pm: Order pizza while copper paint dries. Craig and I start to sand down the door, but disaster strikes. All the copper paint is smudging, and Mae West and Horace's words of wisdom are turning into slurred speech.

7.30pm: At last it's over. I varnish the door and it looks, well, like a door that's been painted badly in three different colours with copper writing all over it. Not the effect, I fear, Deena was after. But then DIY is not my forte. In fact, I shall now be an ardent fan of GAP DIY: Get Another Person to Do It for You.

The water-based matt emulsion paint was supplied by Benetton, priced pounds 12.59 for 2.5 litres. Available from most B&Q stores.