Late Night Ottoman Upholstery

In second year university, my aunt foisted some furniture on me: an old pale pink corduroy wingback chair and matching ottoman from 1980s Sears. They were super ugly; still are. The wingback at least is in good shape, but the ottoman hasn't held up so well. It's barely survived countless house parties, spills, feet, crosswords and cats. Note the historical evidence below:
                                           

                                                                            

I've been wanting to recover the ottoman for a while. I bought a yard at Designer Fabrics, borrowed a staple gun from my mom, referenced a tutorial from Remodelaholic.com, and set to work at 10pm on a Friday night.  Please ignore any tall boys or glasses of red wine that may have crept into the backgrounds of these photos. 

Before shot. The ottoman in all of its filthy, Febrezed glory.

I removed the wooden legs first, only to discover that they WEREN'T WOOD AT ALL. You duped me, Sears.

Next, I made buttons using leftover scraps and a button kit. 

Don't do what I did: use a too-heavy fabric for the buttons, render the plastic button kit useless and end up hammering them together until a neighbour starts banging on the walls to shut you up.

Next, I measured and marked the locations for my buttons. This is where things got tricky. My ottoman is basically a hollow wooden box, and I decided to leave the existing fabric and padding in place-- not ideal conditions for button tufting. Devan drilled holes through both the top and bottom of the ottoman. 

Don't do what we did: forget to recharge your drill before using it. 

I centered the fabric, pulled it taut and stapled it to the bottom of the ottoman. I did the sides before tackling the corners; those I folded up, creating a double fold which I then straightened out (hard to explain). Don't do what I did: try to make it up as you go along. 

Somebody's pleased.

I couldn't find any long upholstery needles, so I made do with what I had on hand; a regular sewing needle taped to a barbecue skewer (really). I had to poke the "needle" through the new fabric, the old fabric, and the old padding before I could even hit the first hole in the wood. It took at least thirty minutes to get the first button tufted, but it was doable!

Don't do what I did: expect to tuft six buttons, when it's clear that you'll be giving up after number four.

The finished product!

Digby still likes it.