Maskros Gone Gold

Lately I have been staring at the Ikea Maskros light fixture in my dining room and willing it to be something else.  Don't get me wrong: I love it.  It's just, everyone has it.  Which I don't always mind.  And which was to be expected--I mean, a giant statement fixture for just $89?  What's not to like.  Ally at From The Right Bank posted recently about her own dining room find and the general trepidation of buying something you think will wind up everywhere, and it got me thinking: DO I care?  WHY do I care?

Meanwhile, the thing is WHITE.  Which at first I loved.  And my girls say it looks like snow, a giant snowball.  But as things come together in the house, it feels a bit TOO white.

And I got to wondering if I could spray it gold.  Or even spray the outsides of the "flowers" gold and the backs black for a whole lot of depth.  Or just tip the edges of each flower, so it would be white flecked with gold.  Only problem:  while only $89, I know my husband would blow a gasket if I ruined a perfectly good chandelier and had to buy another one.  And he would not be wrong in these feelings.

But then someone else did it first.  I saw the photos. I got my answer: Yes!  Yes!  Yes!

Whose gorgeous house is this, you ask?  None other than textile designer Amy Butler.  Check out the full house tour on Apartment Therapy.  I have to say, while I think Butler is lovely, her style is a but sweet for me, so I was surprised to find the main living spaces in her house to be so appealing.  Edgier than I would have expected.  It doesn't hurt that it is a huge mid-century house on a hill with all kinds of original details--wait till you see the front door.

Now, I have no qualms about being a copier.  Especially in this case, since I thought it up before I saw it done (though I appreciate a pioneer showing the way).  But:  will THIS version be everywhere?

Maybe I should go back to that birdcage I was thinking of wiring.  Except.  Aren't you seeing birdcages all over the place?

Perhaps I should just stop looking at Shelter mags.  Then I could go back to thinking I was a genius, all full up of original ideas.  A genius, I tell you.