As I write this, we’re awaiting proofs on our latest pocket book, “Make Fresh Milk Paint,” by Nick Kroll. Nick was in one of Christopher Schwarz’s Germany classes this summer, and he showed up with a hand-bound book about making milk paint in your kitchen. Chris sent an email to Kara Gebhart Uhl (she handles contracts for us) and me that night with a PDF of the book, letting us know he thought it was a winner.
We all agreed, and have since been busy making milk paint in our Covington shop. It’s so much fun (and simple) to make, and the paint results in a rich and gorgeous finish, plus it doesn’t cost much. It’s rare that you get cheap, easy and good, all at the same time!
The book will be printed in the U.S. (like all of our books). This one features a “Hot Toffee” cover (that’s mustard yellow to you and me) and garnet end papers – vibrant, like the paint. Barring problems at the printer or bindery, we expect it will be available before Thanksgiving.
Below is a sneak peek, Nick’s introduction.
– Fitz
Make Milk Paint
The howling silence of sterile, lifeless paint swatches. The dented tin lid that imprisons your creative soul in a mass-produced can of petrochemical swill. The gnawing anxiety of spending your Saturday morning standing in the fluorescent-washed aisle of a big-box retailer, trying to convince yourself that Hessian Taupe is the sensible buy.
It doesn’t have to be like this.
It’s OK to hate paint. We all do. Our collective contempt for industrial paint is so deeply ingrained that we close the container by hammering the lid shut like we’re trying to kill an E.T. with a tire iron. To be fair, that animosity goes both ways. The second you two are alone in a room together, that zesty blend of plasticizer and industrial solvent hits back with noxious volatile organic compounds (VOCs) that can inflict solid damage per second on a cellular level.
Even if you find a low-VOC paint in a color you like, you’re still likely dropping at least $20-$30 a pint at your local PaintTM retailer. That’s more than Jiffy Plasma would pay you for a pint of your own sweet blood. And unless everything you build ends up with two coats of Walton’s Own Eggshell Sage from a 5-gallon pail, you’re going to have to keep buying paint at that stiff price point. Even if you drop $100+ bucks, you’d still be locked in to only three to four colors, like a pack of kids’ menu crayons. Of course, once you pay that much, you can’t throw out the leftovers, right? What started as a fun project turns into overpriced chemical soup that’s gelling up on a basement shelf like week-old ham.
I’m here to free you. All we need is a bit of barnyard alchemy. Let us talk milk paint, elemental in nature and humble in its glory.
Making a batch of top-grade milk paint from scratch takes 10 minutes and costs less than five bucks. It has zero VOCs. It’s durable. It’s easy to apply. It looks fantastic. The color options are limitless. And you’ll have made it with your own hands.
You’re here because you like making things yourself. You can buy paint off the shelf just like you can buy furniture at Ikea – yet here we are. Paint should be the finishing touch on a labor of love, not a cheap shell that hides your hard work. You’ve spent hours cutting rabbets for a bookshelf and tapering the legs for a staked bench. Don’t stumble on the home stretch. Your handmade furniture shouldn’t be buried under a nano-homogenized ooze that smothers out every last bit of depth and character.
Come with me. Let’s set off on a journey to free your creative instincts. We’ll get lost blending pigments and chasing fleeting hues. We’ll defy the unyielding beast of corporate commerce and shun all the bitter progeny of the refinery. We’ll make something we love, for the ones we love.
Let’s make milk paint.
I’m not talking about mixing up a batch of the ready-mix powdered paint. I’m talking about taking fresh milk and making great paint. I know you can do this. It’s not hard, and you don’t need any special equipment. It’s a quick learning curve and there’s no risk. I started right where you are today – and by the end of the weekend, you’ll be on the fast track to catching up.
If you can make a pot of mac and cheese, then you can make milk paint from scratch. Making milk paint is easier than making bread, bathing a dog, putting on a duvet cover, staying awake in church or carving a pumpkin. Honestly, it’s easier than practically any woodworking task. I’m not even talking hand-cut dados or perfect dovetails – if you’ve glued up a butt joint, you have more technical skill than you’ll need to make milk paint.
This isn’t a treatise on period-accurate finishes for Shaker purists. This isn’t trad-life cosplay or Luddite revivalism. This is a guide to making damn good paint. I’m writing this for everyone who is tired of every microplastic and macrotoxin being dumped into our homes. This is for anyone who wants to be able to take a single breath without being squeezed into a transaction. This is for anyone who just wants to live in a world that’s a little more colorful.
There’s a German word, ohrwurm, to describe a song you can’t get out of your head. To be fair, “homemade milk paint” is perhaps a bit closer to a brainworm, carving out a little beachhead of gentle obsession in your mind while your loved ones begin to wonder about your mental state. But soon you’ll thank me and this little worm.
Let’s begin.
I was looking for the preorder link didn’t find it. so please put me down for two copies.
I’m afraid we don’t do pre-orders these days – but we’re printing plenty (we think!)
This is not intended to be antagonistic but as a person who is interested in writing, I really want to seek clarity here.
This anecdote and book is in stark contrast to the multiple posts you’ve (meaning LAP in general) made over the years saying “we don’t want you sending us manuscripts” and “we only publish books by people we know” etc etc.
So what is the real narrative? Because clearly you will publish books by strangers with great ideas. Do we need to pay for a class? Do we need to bring it in person?
How is this any different than me emailing you a manuscript?
Again, not picking a fight, I’m genuinely interested. I think it’s only fair we have a clear understanding of why he was considered but others will not be, because that has been the nature of your posts discouraging people sending you material – that you will more or less ignore it.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
I’m not affiliated with LAP, so feel free to ignore me; I don’t speak for them.
My take is that their policies are about protecting time and setting expectations. They’re not a traditional publisher with a submission process, and they’ve been clear they don’t want unsolicited manuscripts. Most of the time, if someone hands Chris a manuscript, it won’t be a fit, and he’ll politely hand it back. Occasionally, though, something exceptional and clearly aligned with their mission comes along, and that’s when they make an exception.
Nick’s case seems unusual: he became deeply immersed in making paint, and out of that obsession a book emerged. For most of us, the path is probably not to chase LAP publication directly, but to dive into a niche we care about, contribute meaningfully to that world, and build a voice there. Sometimes that leads to publishing opportunities, sometimes it doesn’t.
I hope this helps.
Don’t let LAP or anyone set the rules for your writing. If you want to write a book then write it. If it’s good and you work at it someone will publish it. I can only guess LAP staff have been bombarded by questions, manuscripts and proposals due to their high profile and engagement with the community. I hope this post doesn’t seem mean or condescending as it’s not intended. Good luck with your writing!
Nick wasn’t a stranger. But in short, we don’t encourage unsolicited manuscripts because I spent far too much time rejecting manuscripts that simply weren’t appropriate for us (for any number of reasons). Plus we’re crazy busy right now and have several years’ worth of contracted books on which to catch up.
Will this be available as a pdf? I live overseas and shipping here is impossible.
I’m looking forward to this book! About 6 years ago I experimented with a diy recipe I found online. I was making some toys for my grandkids and wanted a safe, colorful finish. It was just ok. I think this book will provide the missing information to make a much better paint.
Super excited for this book!
“Barnyard Alchemy”! Wow, what a great intro Nick, well done! Love the cover image. Looking forward to this book!
Just made my first batch from Nick’s detailed recipe on the American Peasant Substack–and oh man…it’s so cool!! I haven’t been this excited since I made my first chair after watching Chris’ video series. Total game changer!
Love to hear it turned out so well! Send pics on IG, would love to see how it turned out!
Read this and a post where you mentioned milk paint being used as interior paint and it’s got me wondering how milk paint holds up as an interior wall paint. Obviously it will be less durable but are there other down sides? After many, many hours sucking moist air through an industrial filter to avoid torching my precious brain cells I’m dying to find out. (and I will as soon as I have an excuse to repaint a room…)
This is a great question. For fresh drywall it should work just fine. Apply thin and let it dry properly. The biggest open question is existing walls and bonding to previous layer of paint.
Acrylic/latex paint is plastic and milk paint doesn’t bond that well to sealed glossy surfaces. But for example Euro “mineral paint” is a dead flat acrylic wall paint with talc added, and I have numerous splatters around my home to prove that milk paint binds to that (too) well. I’ve confirmed with a professional painter that they occasionally use “casein-paint” here as a VOC/plastic-free wall paint.
Megan also suggested shellac as a primer to enable adhesion to acrylic. Haven’t had a chance to test yet but theoretically that has good potential. Maybe a light cut ala Peter Galbert.
For durability, I can honestly say milk paint is damn tough and can be washed as needed. Even without a topcoat you should be fine on the walls, unless it’s going to be constantly touched by grimy hands. If that’s the case, consider a topcoat to ensure consistent color and no oil marks from hands.
If you expect humidity, I would make sure to get type-S lime (special). The magnesium holds a high pH much longer which is inhospitable to mold. It’s my go-to lime.
Waiting patiently for this one. I actually have a project perfect for this. I’m hoping to bring my shop bookcase, something I’ve had since my earliest memory, new life.
I needed this! Can’t wait to buy it. 🙏
Can’t wait to see it on something you built!
Thank you very much. Really appreciate the insight. Probably saved me a couple of funky coats!
Watching closely for this one!!
Any idea if a later coat would adhere to a previous one? I am one of those strange people who doesn’t like the worn effect on chairs and repainting a milk paint with linseed topcoat is not my idea of fun… Was thinking of converting to linseed paint instead but this could be verrry interesting.
Good news, a new coat of milk paint bonds well to existing coats.
Only caveat is if you topcoat the first batch with an oil-wax or other finish, you’ll potentially have a little bonding issues (but not guaranteed, sometimes the wax is so close to gone that it works fine). In these cases, I would expect shellac to be a good sandwich coat to provide a nice adhesive base (just haven’t had a good excuse to repaint anything with a soft wax topcoat yet, the combination is too durable).
That’s going to be a very popular title.
This is gonna be GREAT! Looking forward to reading it… …and making it!
I can hardly wait. No, really. I just bought some powdered milk paint and I’m simultaneously adding up what future projects might cost me, and what I hope to achieve… and I’m alarmed. Doing it myself, in a broader range of colors? Sign me up.
The simple cost-savings are one of the best parts of making fresh milk paint. Sure it also has the great adhesion, ease of use, zero VOCs, durability, and looks amazing—but I really love the freedom that comes with the feeling of “a scoop of pigment from the big jar is basically just using a few nails from 2lb box.”
Once you’ve sourced a good supply of pigments, there’s no second thought about whipping up a batch of paint. I can hit under €1 a batch because locally made quark and pigments are cheap here. And because you can blend pigments, you can again get more mileage/variety.
Thanks Nick! One question: topcoat of what? I see this all the time, but they don’t say what. More milk paint? Something else? Thank you.
Great question! When I say topcoat, I mean an additional finish over the milk paint. This could be any standard finish, but I strongly recommend the soft wax (oil-wax blend) recipe from Chris.
The purpose is to create a highly water-resistant and oil-resistant barrier against everyday life. You can skip this, but then you might get more daily grime on the paint (like bare wood vs finished wood). And the topcoat helps the paint feel silky smooth.
RMP Finishes has good commerical options that are milk paint compatible. Osmo oil also works good. Generally almost any topcoat should work but always make a test board. And look into the soft wax, it just goes so perfectly with fresh milk paint—almost invisible and so easy to apply.
I’m confident you’ll get a grandchild-approved results! My kids really enjoy participating in every step of the process.
Hi, Nick. I”m looking forward to getting your book. Meantime, can you tell me if milk paint is durable in an exterior situation? I have trim on my 1908 Craftsman style home in Pasadena. It was painted three years ago by a professional painter, using oil based paints “imported” from Las Vegas since such paints can’t be sold in Southern California. The paint has peeled, cracked, and is now disintegrating.
Generally, I refer to it as an indoor (or sheltered) paint. This is also in line with historical records. There is a historical recipe with added oil and pitch for outdoor use, but I haven’t tried it yet.
It’s fine to wash it or splash it, but standing water eventually takes it’s toll.
For example: I have a 6-board chest with an Osmo oil topcoat has spent years out on my covered porch in the damp Alpine climate. It gets occasional blown snow and a fair amount of sun, but it’s doing just fine. I also have a tooth-brushing stool for my toddlers that is constantly wet; the topcoat has failed but the paint is fine.
On the other hand, I made a test board and left it in the drip line of my shed roof. It’s frequently soaked. After a year, the paint is toast—even a topcoat on parts of it made no difference.
However, if you’re feeling brave and want to contribute to science. . . here is what I would consider for an experiment. And please only consider this if you accept likely failure in the short or long term.
Vertical surfaces may hold up; flat boards will hold pooled water and likely fail.
You’d need a pigment with high UV resistance (natural oxides or ochres are great).
Milk paint generally doesn’t flake or peel, it just wears over time(it’s like a very thin layer of cement)—but standing water can be brutal. But hopefully as it took outdoor abuse, it would just slowly fade as it is abraded away.
Harsh UV might break down the protein bonds over time. I’ve tested as much as I can, but we don’t get SoCal sun here.
It’s fairly easy to remove—just sand it down, no stripper needed.
You’ll want an outdoor approved topcoat for added protection. This is also tough, because the UV can break down oils over time.
I’d use type S lime for added mildew/mold resistance.
If you have standing water, over time you may get efflorescence, which is mineral compounds being pulled to the surface. It looks like dried salt. You can just wash it off, but in the meantime, it can also be a sign of where your topcoat failed and needs to be refreshed.
If you are too wise to experiment, Sinopia Milk Paint company (also in California) offers an outdoor version (using oil and pitch) that would probably be very suitable for your needs.