(Watch someone else) make a DIY Lindsey Adelman Chandelier!

Believe! It's true. I finally got rid of the neo-Colonial Restoration Hardware chandelier monstrosity in my dining room. Tall people, you can once again roam free and upright in my house without fear of getting clocked in the head by an oversized fixture with delusions of grandeur (I am grand! I hold 20 lightbulbs! People who buy me also buy fake topiaries! I am from the mall!)






I looked for a brass sputnik forever. I would have paid real money, maybe even more than $20, had the right one shown itself. But only the dented, cheapy faux brass, overpriced variety surfaced. Lots of "these sell for $5000 and I am only asking $1500 cash no haggling no dealers firm don't even try to talk me down!" Craigslist ads. Speaking of delusions of grandeur...



Well, no big thang. I wanted a Lindsey Adelman anyways. Trendy? Yeah, I guess in certain (blogger) circles it is. But more interpretive than a sputnik. Sculptural. Branch-like. Able to be repositioned with a single impatient hand.



I bought the approximately $120 worth of parts from Adelman's online list (this included ten Edison bulbs) and handed my husband the plans. It only took ten minutes to put it together, but another few hours to work out the wiring. It's not that the instructions were unclear, it's just that jamming six wires through a tiny pipe was like trying to fit a Costco shopping trip into a NYC apartment kitchen.



I bought an old brass ceiling canopy and had the talented husband hardwire it into our existing junction box. The plans call for using it as a swag fixture, but I said no gracias to twenty feet of chains draped all over my dining room. La Boeuf plastered the hanging rod straight into his ceiling, which I've never seen done:



M'lady Morgan made a beautiful version:



My hanging rod is shorter, since we walk under part of the fixture and we're not headbangers (anymore!)





I'm really happy with the look. It has sort of an industrial-classic look. The best thing is that all the parts are solid brass. I thought I would have to apply some vinegar to age it, but my husband assured me that it would oxidize just from being handled while he built it, and he was totally right. Within a couple of days the brass had a nice aged look. This is a good job for your greasy, sweaty teenagers. If you need your brass aged, send it over here. We have sweaty palms and greasy fingers to spare!





Yep, Thomas Jefferson's dining set is no more. Someday that will be an oval marble tulip table, instead of the one I rescued from my neighbor's back yard.

Someday when people ask where I found a piece, I won't have to give them geographical coordinates but actual store names. Not that I mind.



So, what's the consensus? Love or loathe?


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