To make room for our DIY clothespin light, we first had to remove the existing fixture:

Not literally toss it out—there was something charmingly vintage about the original shade, and we wanted to reuse it somewhere else in the house rather than donate it. The hallway that leads to the guest room, hall bath, playroom, and nursery seemed like a good candidate for a new placement.

The hallway is currently a bit plain, but our attention kept returning to this enormous 18″ wide swirled-glass shade. The photo doesn’t fully convey how massive it is—think giant serving bowl for a holiday turkey or a towering pyramid of brownies. It has a strangely hypnotic quality.

After turning off the power and removing that giant fixture, I prepared to install the smaller retro laundry light we planned to use. And then, in a single clumsy moment, disaster struck:

The glass shattered loudly. From the other room I heard, “John, PLEASE tell me that was the old light.” I couldn’t honestly say yes. As I lifted the new fixture toward the ceiling, the glass cover had come along for the ride—barely attached by one screw. Working too fast, distracted, or just plain clumsy—take your pick. Whatever the reason, it was my fault.

The moment felt all too familiar, a déjà vu flashback to another one of my “oops” moments we documented earlier: that other time I broke something.

Lesson one: don’t trust me with anything fragile in a hallway. Lesson two: bless Home Depot for selling replacement glass shades for about seven dollars. A quick run to the store and a much more careful installation later, we had the new fixture in place (ignore the ugly attic pull-string in the background—we’ll replace that eventually):

The replacement shade isn’t identical to the original—the old one had subtle frosting all around, while this replacement has a distinct white band and a translucent base—but the difference is minor and we’re fine with it for now. Sherry has talked about spray-frosting the new cover down the line if she changes her mind, but for the moment it does the job and saved us from reinstalling the old, oversized fixture. Reinstalling it would have felt like the DIY version of the walk of shame.
This change isn’t a dramatic room overhaul, but small updates like a new hallway light can be a stepping-stone to something more interesting. We’ve floated ideas: paint the fixture base a fun color, add stripes, or mimic a more expensive look—think the $75 style from Schoolhouse Electric that inspired us.

From our experience with our other hallway, where we hung a gallery wall, we learned that even narrow spaces can be opportunities to make a design statement. We’ve discussed DIY wainscoting or other architectural details and even trying a bold color above a chair rail. The main challenge will be working around the existing “wall acne” — little eyesores like the current doorbell plate shown below that detract from the overall look.

When we get around to it, we’ll probably pick out a new doorbell that fits the updated aesthetic. For now, the hallway is a blank canvas with a fresh light and plenty of possibilities.
Random aside: when I briefly studied improv at the Upright Citizen Brigade Theatre in New York, a woman I recognized from a certain TV clip was in my class—small world. But back to the point: apparently I’m prone to breaking things. Anyone else?