Thursday, January 26, 2012
To the light in my studio, I love you. Like, a lot. (Scott, too.) Even though you’re surrounded by paint bins, drop cloths and cans of mineral spirits, you still look so fine.
You’re so… big. And bright! Oh, happy, happy sigh.
Um, but, really. We couldn’t be more thrilled with our lighting purchase. However, this is not the happiest of lighting tales (although the ending is), as it could easily contend with the saga – turned love story – of our kitchen fixture (more on that right here).
As far as studio lighting goes, I had one major criteria: I needed lots of it – to detail each and every puppy paw that passes my painting table, of course. After finding this pendant at the Lamps Plus Open Box Outlet (for close to half the original cost), I knew it’d be the right fit. The four bulbs it required would allow all the light my heart desires while being clean, classy and, again, big. At 24,” the size alone was bound to create impact – especially in a room that’s only 8′ wide, but the style and shape would add elegance and simplicity. As an open box item, I knew full well that I risked minor defects – but I didn’t care. The price was right, and my decision was made.
After paying for said light and receiving confirmation, I was told a week later they oversold it. Yes, I was peeved, but let’s just say an ensuing customer service snafu had me seeing red, so I set my sights elsewhere. The problem is, nothing else fit the bill. I was stuck on needing four bulbs. I had a small budget and high hopes. After weeks of (literally) dreaming of the one that got away, Scott took the reigns, called Lamps Plus, and pleaded our case. I obnoxiously perched too close for comfort and tried to whisper things like, tell them it was their fault! They owe us! Nag, nag, nag! I hate to be that person, but desperate times… well, you know.
In the end, he sealed the deal for under $200 (not cheap by any means, but worth every penny, close to 30% off the retail price, and it’s built like a champion), and we got our pendant. And because they oversold the open box variety, we got a new one. Win!
And a day before install, you might remember that this happened:
In a strange twist, this is the light that we were replacing with the new honker. No one was hurt, but dang crashing glass can make some noise. We’re still not sure how it happened, but we’d like to think Helen had a little something to do with it. Creepy timing. And to tie this whole mini saga back to the beginning, the suicidal light is actually the original kitchen fixture from Lighting Love Story number one. Whoa. Now that’s full circle.
As for the fauxdenza – it’s done! You can also see another in process project in the first photo (spoiler), but more to come on all those things. One step at a time, remember?
Now, who wants to get some customer service stories off their chest? Anyone?
See more of our studio ideas on our Pinterest board, right here.
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Tuesday, January 24, 2012
First of all, thank you, thank you for all the help with my upholstery dilemma. You gave good, level-headed advice for good, well-rounded decisions – something I feel we’ve been lacking in as of late. Loaded plates and big to-dos have been clogging our noodles, and we’re determined to stick to our new year, attainable-goals-promise. With that said, we’re pretty positive that G-ma’s chair is a job for the pros.
In other news, this little home is outta control. Because of aforementioned promises, we really have been taking things one step at a time. And as a result, things are moving slower than we’d normally allow. For the last few weeks, our skinny hallway is barely walkable (Jack’s little heart stresses at the thought of running past all the frames, mirrors and bike wheels) and our kitchen counter tops have become the landing zone for pretty much everything.
But this is all at the cost of a custom made desk for the studio. And it’ll be worth it.
We were inspired by The Brick House and Morgan’s fauxdenza. It’s sleek, clean, and most importantly – only 13″ deep. See hers, exhibit A:
I already have my painting table, so we simply needed another thin desktop for me to use as a mini task station, a landing zone for the laptop and a zone that’s functional without taking up space.
Like any unassuming couple, we took off for Ikea, and came home with lots of boxes. Like Morgan, we used Akurum cabinets with Applad doors (meant to be used as upper kitchen shelving, hence the shallow depth). Unlike her, we chose a different configuration that allowed us to have a pull out drawer.
We built and built.
Then we followed the Ikea instructions and got to hanging. While we would have loved a long wall of nothing but storage, we also liked the idea of fitting a few stools underneath. Once they were up on the wall, we staged our desk using these stools we got from Overstock. The camera lens does add distortion, but there’s no denying how small this room is:
We were on the right track, so the next step was finding a piece of wood that was 8′ long x 13″ deep. While any number of bloggie fauxdenza posts may lead you to think this is a common, easy to find thing – it’s not. We called several local lumber yards and struck out each time, learning that the standard depth is less than 12.” After a whirlwind of phone calls, we found one 16″d lone piece of white oak at Wood World (snicker), paid a pretty penny for it (more than we would’ve liked, although, it is gorgeous) and very, very carefully made our cuts, sanded it down and got to conditioning, staining and polying. Phew.
As for the whole rundown on our steps, it’s simple: we followed the can’s instructions. 1 coat of wood conditioner, 2 coats of stain (we used Minwax Jacobean, which as far as we’re concerned, kicks Dark Walnut’s ass) and 3 coats of Minwax Polycrylic with a light sanding between each layer. (This is the same method we used for the wood panels on our media wall.)
And now? Here’s the state of things:
Perhaps the hardest part of this process is the waiting. There’s a good 24 hour window between staining and polying, and then there’s a half a day wait before handling. (If you’re ever unsure on dry times, read the can!) And when you’re moving around a tiny, overcrowded room and the light fixture comes crashing down (yes, this actually happened; no, no one was hurt), there’s even more time spent cleaning up glass then time spent adhering completed wood to Ikea cabinets.
Oh, boy.
Before this week is over, we will have a finished desk! And we’ll show and tell. And then, wouldn’t you know, it’s on to the upper shelving. A whole wall of ‘em. (Insert evil laugh here.)
So, hey, what’s up with you?
First photo via The Brick House. See more of our studio ideas on our Pinterest board, right here.
Aside from a $9 Target mirror I scrimped for in college (which was unfortunately dubbed a fat mirror; you know the kind), I’ve never owned a legitimate full length mirror. This realization is usually met in (mock) horror by my girlfriends, which I’ve never understood until last night.
After an Ikea day last week, Scott and I picked up – on a whim, among other items – the full length Stave in white. The hinges sold us (it swings out from the wall! Genius!), it’s thick and sturdy, and it was a very reasonable $39. In addition, it was one of those rare Ikea items that was made with quality-ish materials, reflecting a very normal-sized, very accurate “us.”
Ladies, I am sold on the full length. I can see my shoes. I can double check the pet fur on my backside and lint roll my jeggings (yeah, I said it) before walking out the door.
Oh, and it reflects light down the hall and yadda yadda, too.
We snapped the above phone photo last night while it was propped against our laundry door – reflecting our current messy hall, paint stained jeans, Jackie paws and all. Ten minutes later it was hung in a hidden hallway nook so it can swing towards the bedroom, making it easier for that out-the-door clothes check. When not in use, it stays flat against the wall. Again, genius.
In the midst of Operation Studio chaos, it felt really, really good to check off one project. An unplanned project, but a satisfying one nonetheless.
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Some of you might remember my, um, inheritance from my grandma. As mentioned here, a million dollars couldn’t come close to Ol’ Timey, a folder of childhood drawings and the mustard chair. When she downsized from her large, Pittsburgh home (to a cutie pie condo, no less), we were thrilled to bequeath said items, and Miss Mustard had been hanging in our office ever since.
Now that we’ve begun Operation Studio, I’d like her to continue on as an integral piece of the puzzle as we pull the room back together. But in the meantime, I’ve got some decisions to make.
The chair was a gift to my grandparents on their wedding day. Since then, she’s been reupholstered (from the original blue), but sadly, her guts have seen better days. A squeaky bottom cushion and bouncy back support had me wondering if she needed yet another upholstery job.
All signs point to yes.
But I’m ridiculously scared. My gut reaction was to tackle this job on my own. However, with a barely walkable hallway, stacks of frames piling up and plans for upper shelving in the works, I’m beginning to have second thoughts due to a full plate.
Nevermind I’m not even sure what’s going on with those springs. I’m also afraid of sewing machines, and how in the world do I apply piping?
And there are still a few major components to purchase – a rug, for example. One like this. Or this. (Very different, I know.) So regarding Miss Mustard’s new look, well, what gets my heart thumping wildly is the idea of a pretty, punchy coral. This is not to say that I’ll change my mind on a whim and go with a plush, navy velvet. Or yellow. Again.
For such a sentimental piece, should I leave this to the pros? (Oh, how my sad, DIY-loving and thrifty heart would break. But maybe I need to hear this, too.) To be honest, I’ve no problem pulling out staples, trim, and uncovering the entire frame, but goodness knows what really lies beneath. I’m incredibly conflicted. What do you think?
Has anyone else conquered an out-of-their-league upholstery job and lived to tell the tale? If so, how’d you fare?
See more of our studio ideas on our Pinterest board, right here.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Over the holidays, Scott and I were so lucky to receive a handmade cork board map from one of my best pals, Kalli (you might remember her colorful closet right here). Of course we love a DIY sentiment as much as the next guy, but I swear you could hear my squeals through the walls – sorry, neighbors! We applied the magnet strips she sent along and snapped it to our fridge in a hot second. The green pins mark where each of us have lived, and the white pins show the shared places we’ve traveled together. We thought it was such a fun, yet simple project, that we asked if she could share her process.
I came across this link on Pinterest and decided to make an unframed one as a gift for Kim and Scott since we all share a love of travel. I Googled “US map” until I found a simple outline of the contiguous forty-eight and printed it out, scaling it to fit an 8.5″ x 11″ sheet of paper. I did that partly so it would print on regular copy paper, and because I knew I’d be shipping everything in a flat-rate envelope, which put constraints on the overall size. Also, I knew Kim and Scott already have a lot of art on their walls, and I didn’t want to send them anything that would demand a large area for hanging.
I took a Sharpie to the printed map outline, and smoothed the outline slightly in a few jagged areas to simplify the cutting process. Then I double-stick taped it to a rectangle (cut out from a roll) of cork so it wouldn’t wiggle around while I used a sharp X-acto blade to carefully cut through the outline. Afterward, I peeled off the double-stick and reused the paper map to cut a backing shape from cardboard. This time (using new, sharp blades) I cut inside the US outline just a bit, so when I sandwiched together the layers with hot glue, the cardboard didn’t stick out over the edge since it was slightly smaller than the cork layer.
I made the little yellow banner (printed on cardstock and glued to a scrap piece of cork or cardboard) and sent it along with an assortment of colored map pins and optional magnet stripping, in case they wanted to display it on the fridge rather than hang it on a wall.
I didn’t include Hawaii and Alaska because I wasn’t sure if those states would look good floating around on their own, but they could easily be cut out from scrap pieces of cork. Now that I have a few feet of cork left over, I may cut out a big California shape and pin photos to the location in which they were taken. Here’s to more traveling and more pinning!
Thank you, Kalli!
PS… Any guesses on those pin locations? (Disclaimer: we totally eyeballed that shizz. Still, who wants to try?)
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We started the weekend with a ridiculous amount of Ikea boxes stacked in the studio. It was pretty comical for a while, blowing through box after box and hacking apart the pieces so they fit us, rather than the intentional mold. By mid-afternoon Sunday, we became a bit delirious (rightfully so!) and cracked had-to-be-there jokes. As we hauled 50 pounds of cardboard boxes to the recycling bin, I would say, hey, man, what’d ya get at Ikea?, and Scott would reply, all the things!
Eh, you had to be there.
We made mind-boggling progress, even when we hit a few road blocks along the way. And just this morning, I purchased three yards of champagne colored Oh Joy! wallpaper:
Did you know you could buy by the yard? Only a few select patterns, but it’ll be perfect for our application, as a whole roll (although awesome!) would have been unnecessary. Any guesses on where it’ll go?
How was your weekend?
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by Kim
14 comments
I’m just glad that damn thing didn’t fall on our heads! SHWOOO! And people thought they had bikes to worry about!
oh and p.s. hilarious you sat by scott while he called and negotiated. eric won’t do that. i’m the one to call and kindly ask for the service we deserve, dammit! niceness does work wonders though. if you call all peeved, fuggedabout it! nice but firm, yes indeed! i love that kind of stuff. haha
oh and how could i forget? love the new light!!!!
Thanks, Jill!
I tried niceness the first time around. You know it’s hard to put on my “mean pants,” so after enough “woe is me!” Scott gave in and called them himself. Luckily when he called (of course!), he got an amazing saleswoman, and she negotiated a fair price after all the initial confusion!
I’m with you, it’s probably Helen’s fault! :)
I’ve only really fought customer service once. Short version: Spied a gorgeous wood-framed mirror at Pier 1. Clearance priced from $100 down to $19, because of a crack in the mirror. I was broke, thus didn’t mind crack. Carried it to register, where manager said “Oh, that shouldn’t have been out, we can’t sell it.” He tried to get me a different one that wasn’t cracked. I said “only if I still get the clearance price” – of course he said no way. He tried to literally take the mirror out of my arms. I tightened my grip and stood my ground, demanding I be allowed to buy the cracked mirror. Finally I won, I think because he thought I was a nutjob. It was perfect for my space, and the crack became part of its charm. Like a war wound. :)
Jane, this made me laugh! They didn’t know who they were dealing with!
Yeah, the right person def. plays a role in giving in to your request. But I’ve also got some mean pants in my blood, unfort. Not usually a good thing. Ha
When we bought our new appliances the stove that came was the not the one ordered. It was actually better as it had a fancy warming drawer. No extra charge yada, yada. Come to find out later after a few repair calls that this stove was a floor model/return and warming drawer or not, the thang was jenky. When I tried to return it it was an Abbot and Costello “who’s on first?” as they didn’t see this model in our invoice, blah, blah. DUH! We went round and round until I finally said to the guy, “so what? I magically shop lifted this stove from your shop?” Is that how I came to have this model? I mean come on dude! It was DELIVERED by ya’ll!
He saw the logic and we got a new stove.
Jen, that’s too funny! Thank goodness you got the right stove, but “who’s on first” stories always crack me up. Happy cooking :)
We (and by we I mean Robert) fought Lowe’s over a mispriced door lock set a while back. I blogged about it and got some mean comment bascially saying “they didn’t have to do that, you’re a jerk” when I mentioned Florida’s Shopkeeper law. Whatever!
Love the light!
Also, we have what I have dubbed “Ghost Dog” at our house. Both dogs will be sleeping (or outside) and I hear puppy nails on the wood floor, weird thumps, or a dog drinking water. Strange. But maybe I’m just crazy.
Cait, oh my goodness! Ghost puppy! I like it.
Hehe glad you like it! Maybe Helen is a Ghost Kitty?
Hmm, I like the sound of that. I would love this to be true, however, a few months ago, I “bumped” shoulders with her when I was in the kitchen. I said “oh, excuse me,” then looked up and realized Scott was on the couch.
Sadly, I don’t think kitties are that tall!
Persistence pays off! I have been much more proactive in letting businesses know when I’ve had a good/bad experience. If you don’t tell them, how will they know?
Haha, Helen was just ready for the new light I guess! It is really pretty; at least she’s a ghost with similarly good taste?