Varnishing point - reformulated paint stripper - Evaluation

Sierra, March-April, 1993 by Marc Lecard

The four wooden chairs stood around an invisible table in the back of a junkshop. They were covered thickly with paint, the top layer a vile, stomach-pump green, other colors gleaming dimly through chips and scratches. The carving in the chairbacks was nearly filled in by repeated coats; the wicker seats were rotting and torn. In other words, priceless treasures.

I bought them for next to nothing and carried them home triumphantly: my first refinishing project. A book or two from the library on the subject, a quick trip to the hardware store for scraper, steel wool, gloves, and paint stripper, and I was ready to get down to bare wood.

The paint stripper was a fearsome-looking substance--a thick, pink glop-- and I read the instructions carefully. It certainly worked quickly--the paint bubbled off in a few minutes--but it stung like hell when some sloshed on my unwittingly exposed wrist. And in spite of my attempts at thorough ventilation, in 15 minutes I had a wrenching headache.

My problems were predictable: most paint strippers are a seething brew of noxious chemicals, chief among which is methylene chloride, listed by the EPA as a probable human carcinogen. Permanent scarring and eventual carcinoma aside, nearly all paint strippers are made with petrochemical solvents that release volatile organic compounds (VOCs) as they evaporate; VOCs are a contributor to the formation of smog. And, of course, paint remover is considered a household hazardous waste, making safe disposal as difficult as it is necessary.

Under regulatory pressure, several manufacturers have come out with paint and varnish removers made without methylene chloride, which has already been banned outright in New York and California. One I tried recently, Woodfinisher's Pride, contains no methylene chloride, methanol, or any other petroleum solvents, and can be used indoors with ordinary ventilation. It also claims to be nonflammable (I couldn't set it on fire, anyway) and biodegradable, and comes packaged in a recyclable plastic container, coded "other." (This kind of plastic can be difficult to recycle, but the manufacturer offers to take any containers you can't find a home for.)

The green gel reminded me at first anxiety-filled glance of my past unpleasant experiences with paint removers, but it lacked the sharp chemical reek that forewarns of headache and tumor formation; instead I had to put the bottle almost under my nose to get a whiff of its soapy, vaguely citric scent. A drop on the skin failed to produce the instant burning sensation of the old stuff (though the label bears stern warnings about skin and eye contact). It goes on easily, takes half an hour to do the job, and stays wet for several hours, so you can coat the entire piece you're working on in one application. Paint comes off nicely with regular stripping tools, and wash-up requires only soap and water.

Using reformulated paint remover to rehab wooden furniture makes ecological as well as economic sense: you can keep beautiful old pieces in circulation, take a breather from high-powered consumerism, and help in a small way to save trees and prevent smog. And with nontoxic strippers and varnish removers, you can refinish your finds without finishing off yourself.