No, not the Gingerbread house – we managed to create a quintessentially Italian variety. When it came time to refinish the exterior stucco on Godzilla, we did a lot of research on types of plaster. The old stuff was an impoverished cement mix with a lot of sand and not much bonding agent, the kind of stuff that sucks damp straight into the house and allows cracks through which wind – and bugs – can travel unimpeded.
That weathered look
We chose a product from a Vicenza company, MGN, that specializes in plaster mixes to match historical properties. The plaster breathes but repels water, and has strong cohesion to keep everything from crumbling anew. All the old stucco was removed, we tried test patches to make sure we liked the look, chose a colour, compared quotes. We agreed that rather than going for a complete stucco look, the contractor would leave the stone face showing and mortar between them. We left the country.
The product is fantastic but it turns out Godzilla’s walls are not. There are a lot of smaller stones that are not structurally secure, and – it turns out – are really difficult to point. Also, the plaster is goopier than the usual kind and tends to be messier to apply as a result. When I flew over from Canada to check out the final result, Angelo’s blathering about the many challenges of the plaster should have been warning enough of what to expect.
Just what I had in mind for the house
You might be familiar with an Italian cake (also an ice cream) called Cassata. There are a lot of different versions of this treat, but essentially it’s creamy cake with little bits of candied fruit in it. That was the first thing I thought of when I looked at Godzilla. The whole house had a pale coating, like vernix on a newborn, out of which popped random stones. I dubbed it ‘effetto cassata‘ and, sadly, everyone could see exactly what I meant. Not quite the vision of honeyed stone I’d been dreaming of.
A certain similarity
Mercifully, time – and acid rain – heal all wounds. The vernix fell away over the course of the next year, leaving Godzilla with something resembling the classic stone walls we wanted. Imperfect, as is everything with Godzilla. But now strong, resilient and damp-free.
Godzillavilla 
Your predicament reminds me of a house we had many years ago south of Granada (Spain). According to the local custom, it was built of every bit and piece you could imagine (the cassata); however, there you lime-wash the walls to give that white effect characteristic of the area. You cannot make it look like stone, because it is not stone. We nowadays have a small mill in Tuscany which was built, about 3 centuries ago, with real stones. To try to demolish a very tiny section to enlarge a window was a real challenge to the builders and it produced a large amount of beautiful boulders that we have used for decoration purposes. A similar exercise in the Spanish home produced a collection of old shoes, bits and pieces of brocken bricks and all kinds of unidentified materials…. Quite a challenge! My advice would be to follow what the locals do with those houses, which do not like modern materials or coatings added to their structures. In my case, I had an advantage, my husband is an architect, so I could live all technical matters up to him. In your case, follow Angelo’s suggestions. He seems to know what he is doing. Good luck! You are tackling a fascinating project.