DIY Concrete Countertops – 11 months later


UPDATE! click here for how these counters have fared 3 1/2 YEARS LATER. 

11 months laterHey-o!

Tara here.

Novel writing exploits took a backseat today. Lucky you? I was perusing Pinterest this morning and saw another concrete-over-laminate countertop pin. You know the countertop treatment popping up on the internet? The one using Ardex Feather Finish concrete “painted” over sanded-down laminate or formica countertops? I smiled to myself, remembering when I first saw those pins and thought rather smugly, “Oh, we could totally do that!” Well, last summer, I took that smug opinion and put my (not much) money where my confident mouth was.

If you’re wondering how that treatment holds up, this is the post for you. There may be hints and tips and tricks, but this is by no means a how-to post. This is a how-did-it-hold-up reality post.

Yes, this is a new type of post for the ol’ blog, but it’s my blog. You’re not the boss of me.

Kitchen full, countersWhat do you think of my on-the-cheap, mostly DIY kitchen remodel? I’ll post more (including the unrecognizable before photos) on that one later. I still have a couple of things left to do. But for now . . .

The house the hubs and I bought last summer had pretty awful laminate countertops. They were probably great in their hay-day, but we must have inherited them from a butcher . . . or serial killer. I’m talking knife gashes and slices everywhere. Chunks missing.

Had I a bigger budget, I might have sprung for the quartz countertops I really wanted. But after raising the kitchen ceiling, electrical work, A/C duct work, new lighting, and DIY shelving, (it was a brutal summer) we basically had enough money for paint. And maybe cheap cabinet pulls.

So, we took the plunge. The Ardex Feather Finish countertop plunge.

Total cost- Approx $125

Concrete– $25 (which I purchased at a local floor covering supply store)

Cheng Food-Grade Concrete Countertop Sealant- Either $30 (small bottle for up to 40 sq. feet), or $100+ (Huge 4L bottle – you’ll have lots of leftovers for re-sealing down the road or for other projects)

What we already had on hand

Painter’s tape, plastic drop cloth, face masks, electric sander, utility knives, taping knives (a.k.a. drywall spatulas) similar to these, old bowl/bucket, whisk, old soft rags.


It took 3 adults (one of which had done this before) one long evening, then 2 adults for a second night. That said, we had an electric sander. If you are sanding by hand, expect it to take a lot longer.

To begin, we wood-putty’ed over the missing chunks in the counters. Then we sanded with an electric sander, and savagely scuffed those original gashed badboys with utility knives. That was just as fun and it sounds. Then came the many, many super-thin layers of Ardex (with sanding between each coat). After drying came the sealant layers. Then the waiting game.

Ready for the good stuff? The big questions?

#1 – How have they held up? Surprisingly well, actually. Are there chips? Yes. Are there dings? Sort of. Are there scratches? Eh… Are there stains? No. (Yeah, I was surprised by that one, too.)


Chips. (See the lighter gray dots?) This happens when something both heavy and sticky is left on the countertop. When said item is picked up later, chips can occur. I’ve got 4 tiny chips in the corner by my stand-mixer, 2 next to my stove, a long-skinny chip up against the wall by the stools, and another little tiny one in the main workspace. (When I say tiny, I’m talking pin-head tiny, not even as big as a pencil eraser). Not bad for nearly a year of wear and tear from our rambunctious family of four.


Dings. This only happens in this one small part of my countertop, no bigger than a 5-inch square. (Apologies for the weird lighting, it’s the only way I could get the camera to show my dings.)


Why does it ding? Because this part of the countertop for some reason is much thicker than the rest. We probably missed this in sanding one of the layers. Maybe it soaked up more sealant and therefore has a little give to it? I’m not sure of the science behind why the thicker concrete dings.

Normally, each layer gets sanded down until completely smooth, almost as thin as paint, resulting in a final, smooth surface. This little section was never completely smooth, and noticeably thicker.

The plus side: I highly doubt this thick part will chip. But it has definitely “aged” with these lovely “character” dings. I actually kinda dig ’em.

Scratches. Truth be told, I didn’t notice any at all. Then I read Sarah’s experience with scratches and looked very, very, closley. Technically I guess you could say there are things that look like scratches. But they’re not like mini slices through the sealant, they’re like tiny, almost imperceptible lines scattered throughout. Like my dinged section, but to 1/10th of the degree. Almost like the miniscule leftover markings on a pad of paper from a previous sheet: the ones you only notice if you color the clean sheet carefully with pencil lead to reveal the hidden message. They don’t even show up in the sunlight unless you are really searching for them. I think maybe Sarah’s showed because her countertops were black and she used non-countertop wax to try to seal them.


Stains. Yes, I said there were no stains. In truth, no amount of berry juice, melted popsicle, soy sauce, or other nefarious stainer has penetrated our food-grade concrete sealant. However, right along the seam to our stove, oil/grease seems to have seeped into the concrete. See the darker half circle right at the edge? I’m guessing our tape job (to protect the countertop-installed stove during this whole concreting process) wasn’t up to par. Or maybe when we pulled the tape up afterwards, it pulled up a tiny bit of the sealant. I don’t know. But, yes, I do have those tiny pockets of oil along the edge.

See the little dots an inch to the left of the stove that look very similar to the oil/grease stains? That’s what happens when water is left pooling on the countertop over the top of a chip. (I had just finished cleaning the counters before I took the picture). Water is absorbed through the tiny chip, then spreads out wider underneath the sealant. Guess what? They dry! Those little dark dots disappear after about a half hour.

Which brings me to a stain precautionary: It has not happened to me, but I would venture to guess that if berry juice (or other stainer) was left pooling over a chip in the surface, and it absorbed, and then dried, it very well could stain. Just a thought.

Ok, at this point, some of you might be asking “Tara, why don’t you just dab a little sealant over the chips?”  The sealant requires a process, which I could try, but I’m scared of it turning out uneven and looking worse than the teeny tiny chips do. To appease you, dear readers, I might try it and post about later. We’ll see. To get a flawless seal, I would have to re-sand and seal the entire countertop. And I am not quite ready to do that just yet.

#2 – What would I have done differently? A few things.

First: I’d do more layers of concrete.

I think we did 5 really thin layers. Yes, the surface is super smooth, but I actually would prefer a surface more like my little 5-inch section with the character dings (another pic zoomed out below). Personal preference, but I like dings more than chips. The thin-ness in some areas makes me a tiny bit nervous. It’s pretty thin.

Second, I’d heed the directions a little better with the sealant.


See the photo above? The dull bit in the sunlight? Right above my dinged up section? That’s a spot where the our sealant didn’t soak in as well as it should have. I’ve got two of them. This is because we didn’t get the concrete wet enough during the sealing process. When they say get it wet, they mean really wet. Wet enough to soak into the concrete and stay wet while you apply the sealant. That spot must have dried too much by the time we got the sealant wiped over the top. It doesn’t stain, and it doesn’t soak up water like the chips do, but it’s not as shiny. So it’s noticeable in certain lights.

#3 – Would I do it again? Absolutely.

This is a fantastic countertop. It looks great, it feels great, and it holds up better than I thought it would. As a matter of fact, if I get enough chips to necessitate a change, I’m planning on doing it again. Tape off the room with plastic, a little (or lot) of sanding, a few more layers, and re-seal. Though I’m guessing I’ve got a while before that will be necessary.

The only thing about this countertop that I can’t do that I wish I could do: run a flat razor blade over the surface to clean hard, crusty bits. I’m pretty sure it would knick the sealant if the blade caught a ding, chip, or other imperfection.

HOWEVER, the project is labor intensive. And takes a significant amount of time. And very messy. (Use the hose or utility sink to clean up, not your kitchen sink, which should be taped off and covered anyway.) And concrete dust will be EVERYWHERE.

Also, this is not a 3 hour project. This is not a one-night project. And if I were you, I’d tape painter’s plastic over entrances, doors, cabinets, etc. to keep the insane amount of dust contained. (Remember the sanding? Lots of sanding.) Be prepared and willing. We weren’t moved-in when we did this, and I am so glad I didn’t have to wipe concrete dust off of belongings in addition to house surfaces and fixtures.

If you don’t have the money for solid countertops like marble, quartz, granite, or even butcher block, I’d suggest this as a great alternative to cover those old laminates. If you didn’t already know, this Ardex treatment is cheap.

I’d also do it if I had older cabinets and didn’t have the money for new countertops and cabinets. Because putting expensive countertops on older cabinets is not a good idea. The counters will likely crack if you later try to take them off to replace your cabinets, and you might just decide on a different cabinet footprint and wouldn’t be able to use your previously installed expensive countertops anyway.

AND… again… we had serial killer countertops. And a tiny budget. What choice did we have?

Kitchen full, counters

Dang, I’m proud of my DIY kitchen remodel. Just wait until I finish adding my tarnished gold pulls to those blue drawers and finish up my crown molding.

For in-depth instructions, visit: Here, Jenny over at, and then here, Laura over at

So, there you have it, folks. The not-so-ugly ugly truth behind those internet concrete-over-laminate countertops.

AAAAAND NOW, click the photo below to see how these counters are doing 3.5 years after install!

Concrete countertops_

The Lasering of the HooHas


Yes, this post is probably too-much-information. But, dear readers, the world needs to be warned.


Once upon a time, *someone* (eh-ehm) saw a killer Groupon deal for laser hair removal. Though it took some minor sisterly manipulation, she managed to convince her two sisters to join her in an adventure. The three of them then scheduled their appointments for “the lasering of the hoohas.” Yep. Go big or go home.

Each sister had the same procedure, the same number of follow-up visits, and received the same advice and instructions. However, each had a very different experience. In order to protect the not-so-innocent, names will not be assigned to each hilarious tragic mishap. Hopefully our combined lessons-learned will save you from an equally humiliating memory.

If you laser your hooha . . . 

. . . remember that you only need to undress from the waist down. When the technician comes in and seems surprised at your state of complete undress, then has to ask you twice for clarification on what exactly you want lasered, you will eventually realize where you went wrong. In this sister’s defense, there was a modesty towel provided that appeared to be meant for whole torso cover-up, which seemed like enough cover at the time.

If you did indeed strip completely . . .

. . . don’t admit it to your sisters. Who then gossip and giggle about it with their technicians. Like a bunch of nosy old ladies at the hair salon.

If they tell you to shave everything the day before your appointment . . .

. . . they mean EVERYTHING. Because when that laser beams upon a not-quite-so-shaven spot in your nethers that you probably didn’t even know existed, it will hurt like the dickens. The DICKENS, I tell you. You will see stars. Galaxies. Undiscovered universes.

If you have a known skin sensitivity . . . 

. . . mention this to the technician BEFORE you slather on the numbing cream. You might break out in a severe rash. There are other options. Like ice. Or a strip of leather hide between your gritted teeth.

If you think you might have a severe skin reaction . . .

. . . don’t schedule a date for that night. Or any of the next 5 nights. And we come from a traditional, religious family, so this has nothing to do with sex. I’m just talking about normal functioning in front of the opposite gender. Walking, sitting, getting in and out of cars . . . all things that will make you move like the zombie in “Hocus Pocus” if your crotch is on fire. Even with a best-case-scenario and a high tolerance for pain, your date will at the very least think you’re constipated.

If you do have both a severe skin reaction and an unfortunate date planned that night . . .

. . . don’t wear tight pants. This should be common sense. Apparently us sisters aren’t always running on all cylinders in the common sense department.

If you break out in a severe rash . . .

. . . don’t wait 3 days to see the doctor. That’s just 3 days of unnecessary discomfort. “Discomfort” is probably putting it mildly.

If the doctor tells you to put “Di-syn-et? Des-ri-tyme? Da-resi-tin?” on it . . . 

. . . he means Desitin. Which is diaper-rash cream. Which you can buy at the grocery store. Or borrow from your sister’s diaper-bag. But you probably should have asked the doctor to clarify this when you were confused so it didn’t take you an extra day to receive relief.

If you need Desitin, like immediately . . .

. . . find a bathroom to lather yourself. Don’t do it in a car, without tinted windows, in the mall parking lot. Especially with your sister cracking up and making a scene in the next seat.

If you can’t sleep at night because your lady bits are on fire . . . 

. . . try turning up your ceiling fan to full blast and strip down to a half-birthday suit. Then sprawl out on top of your covers. I’ve heard this helps.

And finally, If you did indeed suffer from a severe, toe-curling allergic reaction . . . 

. . . DON’T USE THE DANG NUMBING CREAM AT YOUR NEXT APPOINTMENT! It shouldn’t have to take you a few sessions to realize that the cream was your fatal mistake.

So ladies, if you’ve been contemplating taking the Brazilian laser plunge, please take a moment to truly internalize any possible ramifications. Hedge your bets, and prepare.

Maybe pre-purchase some diaper cream. Just in case.