Remember when we scored our parsons-style chairs on Craigslist for about $25 each? We always pictured them in a cheerful apple green. After a failed attempt at painting, we accepted that slipcovers or reupholstering were the realistic options.
After weighing the pros and cons, we decided slipcovers made the most sense—mainly because we like the idea of tossing them in the wash. We didn’t want anything too fussy or floor-length that would make our dining room look like a banquet hall, so we searched for a clean, mostly-fitted silhouette with a short skirt. We liked an older Pottery Barn style, but it wasn’t available in the green we wanted, it didn’t match our chairs’ measurements, and it was out of production anyway.
Further digging turned up a similar off-white option from World Market that matched the silhouette and came closer to our measurements. The color wasn’t the apple green we envisioned, but I’ve dyed fabrics before, so dyeing them green felt doable.
At first I hesitated to buy; the slipcovers were $60 for two and, though reasonable, I stalled. Then World Market sent an email announcing a sale on dining items. I refreshed the product page and saw a discount: $40 for two—$20 each. That price felt right. Buying fabric, sewing, and risking mistakes for all eight chairs could have ended up costlier and more frustrating than purchasing ready-made covers.
I showed John and he surprised me by suggesting we order ten instead of eight. His reasoning was practical: extras would cover any dyeing mishaps and could be returned if we didn’t need them, avoiding additional shipping. Sold. We ordered ten, and with shipping and tax the total came to $232—about $23 per cover. If we returned two, the net cost would drop further.
After a couple of weeks the covers arrived and I eagerly tried one on a chair. It didn’t fit well—major disappointment. I considered tailoring them but that felt beyond my skill level. Instead I tried a simpler experiment: wash one in hot water to see if it would shrink closer to the right size.
When it was time to dry, I noticed the care tag read “dry clean only.” Who sells slipcovers that require dry cleaning? The whole appeal of slipcovers is easy laundering. Against that instruction, I tossed it in on high heat anyway, hoping it would shrink enough to fit better.
Out of the dryer the slipcover looked promising—warm and slightly smaller. I slipped it onto a chair and was thrilled: it was almost a perfect fit. It remained a little loose at the sides, but overall it read as relaxed and lived-in rather than overly tailored, which suited our dining room nicely.
The success felt like a lucky break, a rare moment where a risk paid off. Below is a comparison of an unwashed slipcover versus the same cover after a hot wash and high-heat dry:
Another relief: the slipcovers are thick enough that the busy pattern on the chairs underneath doesn’t show through, even in bright light. That alone improved the look immediately.
We still plan to dye them apple green eventually, but for now the off-white covers are a big improvement over the original pattern. With our white walls, the space does read a little monochrome, so we’re considering painting the walls a soft gray before dyeing the covers. That way we can decide whether to keep the off-white or go ahead with green once the wall color is settled.
The whole process taught me that I can move slowly when deciding on a purchase and then make bold choices—like ignoring care instructions—when necessary. It worked out this time, so I’ll take it.
P.S. — Did anyone catch last night’s Jersey Housewives? The new cast dynamic is interesting. Momma Manzo is always entertaining—love watching her and her boys in that kitchen.