Who’s Your (Fry) Daddy

I mean no patriarchal disrespect when I say this, but nobody needs their daddy around anymore. Not with all the bad news out there about the evils of cholesterol and deep-frying. Oh! I meant to say nobody needs their FRY Daddy around anymore.

I’ve never been much of a deep-fryer person anyway – every time I attempt it, everything in my house (clothes for work the next day) ends up smelling like a greasy strip mall Chinese restaurant. So I didn’t have a Fry Daddy to dismantle, but somebody did and this fry basket ended up at the thrift store.

I grabbed it with a light fixture project in mind, thinking I might stick something in those holes or hang something beaded off of them. But the longer I had it, the more its industrial vibe spoke to me and I decided to go a more purist route. All it took was some spray paint (of course), tin snips, and a light kit from Cost Plus World Market.

If you insist on keeping your Fry Daddy intact, you can purchase this light fixture in my etsy shop! Hope you like it and thanks for stopping by!

I linked this project up at:

DIY Show Off

Read more at http://diyshowoff.com/2013/11/10/that-diy-party-42/#zVc44gcySUZXJ3Zz.99

Lamp Redemption!

Sometimes when I’ve had a craft misstep like the one I related in my last post, I like to take some time to refresh my memory with a walk down Craft Win Lane.  To that end, I bring you this horror show:

What?  What IS that thing (besides a crime against humanity)?  It’s a fake marble ceramic lamp, of course!  And if you’re wondering why the shape of it gives you have a sudden hankering for a PB&J and a juice box, see if this jogs your memory:

When I first saw this lamp, I had a murky idea that I might open up a can of polymer clay whoop-ass on it.  I wasn’t sure how my idea would play out, but I brought it home anyway and introduced it to the other occupants of my craft room, a.k.a. Craft Purgatory.  I allowed it to marinate for a few months, and then it was ripe for redoing.  I decided not to devise a polymer clay treatment and instead took a healthy helping of spray paint, a lampshade, a dash of spray adhesive and fabric, and look what happened!






And craft balance is restored.  Thanks for stopping by!


It may be blog suicide to mention a craft fail this early on in my blogging life, but I can’t continue with this on my conscience – I had a lampshade catastrophe over the weekend.

It all began so innocently: a girl (me), a thrift store, a shapely brass lamp . . . but little did we know that the joy we all felt at stumbling upon one another in this crazy world would be short-lived. Oh sure, there was the honeymoon period during the priming and painting of the lamp – the lime green gloss spray paint behaved better than expected, the painter’s tape successfully sealed the forbidden zones, and no unfortunate paint-in-the-hair episodes occurred. Good times.

Next step was the lampshade. Oh, I found one easily enough – I tried Lowe’s with no luck but one more stop at Lamps Plus was all it took. I took that mother home, fantasizing all the way about how awesome it was going to look wearing the excellent fabric I already had on hand! I felt like the planets were lining up just for this lamp to happen! So with hope in my heart, I stood at my ironing board on Saturday night (yes, my life IS that exciting) figuring out how to make it happen.

It turned out I only had a fat quarter of the chosen fabric, so I decided to just do a stripe of fabric around the shade instead of covering the whole thing. That would have been great, except that I discovered, to my horror, that I DID NOT HAVE A DRUM SHADE. If you’ve ever covered a lampshade, you feel my pain right about now – the top of the shade was slightly smaller than the bottom, which meant that a strip of fabric would not go evenly around it.  As if that weren’t bad enough, the pattern repeat would not allow me to use the part of the design I wanted, and I didn’t have enough fabric for the stripe to go where I wanted it, around the widest part. But I was undaunted! I forged ahead and cut and pressed and sewed and tested and even though I had no idea what I was doing, I started sewing tiny pleats in the top of the fabric every so often until it looked like it would lay right.

It took some serious intestinal fortitude to continue at this point, but I was determined to see it through. So, armed with my trusty can of spray adhesive, I began to spray and stick the fabric onto the shade. After considerable maneuvering, I thought I had gotten most of the wrinkles out as I stretched that material to within an inch of its life and it finally met at the seam.

I popped it on top of the lamp and walked away. I was pretty sick of looking at it by then, and I wasn’t completely happy with the way it turned out, but I thought maybe if I “snuck up on it” its appeal might surprise me.

Yeah . . . that didn’t happen.  Then I opened the blinds the next morning and the wrinkles appeared in all their glory.











 I tried to fix the wrinkles and I tried not to swear.

But when I discovered that the ENTIRE lampshade was sticky, I may have let a few indelicate words cross my lips.





I guess it could be a Post-it lampshade or something.  But not if I burn it first.