Tiny Shoebox Dollhouses. 'Cause Obviously.

The other day, the girls were playing with these miniature shoeboxes that their back-to-school TOMS came in (deeply discounted TOMS, I might add- because I love 'em, but 50 bucks for kiddo shoes? Yipes), and my budding environmentalist asked if we could turn them into something. 

We chose dollhouses, because good LORD there aren't enough places in which the girls' cadre of dolls can live/work/reside. 

However, I cannot resist dollhouses. And these shoeboxes are seriously teensy tinesy and adorable and just begging to be transformed into smallish residences. 

So here's what we did:

We chopped the lids from the eco-friendly and mucca sturdy shoeboxes. If this were a regular
shoebox, you could just,you know, remove the lid. Just sayin'.

Next, we traced the "walls" and "floors" with fabulous construction and wrapping paper. For wallpaper and area rugs,
obviously. If you want it to look really good, have your toddler help you trace with a bulky crayon. It'll really
streamline how the ol' walls meet the floors. But do not let her help you cut them out. Especially if she's Zuzu.

Do, however, have her help you prep the walls and floors of the houses with a glue stick.
None better.

This is what it'll look like once you get the house wallpapered and glue the original lid on as a roof.
(Again, if you used a regular shoebox, you could just flip the lid on a diagonal, chop it in half, and have
an automatic roof with eaves already built in.) The TOMS lid- with its special tabby tabs- made it
extra special. But regardless, I know. This dollhouse is stupidly attractive.
I am a professional.

For extra schmanciness, we created gingerbread eaves outta popsicle sticks and foam paper.
And the only reason this photo is watermarked is because it would look odd to have this
be the only picture without one. But seriously, steal away. I care not. Mazel tov.

Voila: an awesomely small dollhouse, just right for two of your Russian nesting dolls.
(Russian nesting dolls sadly not included.)

And there you go. High quality dollhouses (I dig Nora's circular "portraits" on the walls of hers, right next to a square still life of a bowl of pears) which will last for generations.

Or until the shoebox bulldozers come trampling in the name of eminent domain.