Building a darkroom with little to no DIY skills
The title suggests I can't do DIY which is not entirely true. I have been known to wield a hammer from time to time but while the results are functional they´re not particularly pretty. However, my stubborn hubris was no match for the skills necessary to convert my storage space into my new darkroom. If this resonates then this article is for you. On the other hand If you're one of “those” people who can put up shelves and shit then you can just go ahead and read this with smug abandon.
In 2021 shit got real and the house hunt was on. All potential suitors were met with the same scrutiny, is there a space suitable for a darkroom, with no windows, next to a water source, bigger than a shoe box etc. I wasn't prepared to skimp after all this time and so if it wasn't perfect then it wasn't going to work. The winner presented itself as a little storage room with no windows situated right next to the bathroom. I didn't get a look inside due to it doubling as Monica's closet so I would have to wait until move in day to see exactly what I was working with.
In the meantime I knew I'd be without a darkroom for a while so I did a big push to get my ongoing projects up to date before I had a break. The closer we got to moving the more I was shitting myself that the room wasn't going to be as big as I'd hoped. I wasn't expecting it to be a cavernous echo chamber or anything but as long as I could fit in the essentials that's all that mattered. When the big day finally arrived I could barely contain the excitement and anticipation of what this room would be like.
I'd initially envisioned a large darkroom sink across one wall but wasn't fully sold on the idea for logistical reasons (it's not something easy to find in Iceland and importing is a bit flouncy). I'd been given some larger trays so I needed to ensure whatever I did worked with those or it would be a pain in the arse to use them. I measured the room, I measured all my stuff, I drew up possible plans but progress sort of stunted a bit after.
The Hobbit was championing me to build stuff myself, he had this notion in his head that because I'm not afraid to swing hammers around and am a master at building Ikea that I'd somehow be able to knock this room together without breaking a sweat. I just felt eclipsed by the prospect of it. Sure I could buy some wood and bang something together but would it be level? Probably not. Would it stay up forever? Probably, because I'd bang 100's of nails in that bitch, but would it be pretty? Fuck no. I certainly couldn't do plumbing (despite the Hobbit saying it's just water lego) and fuck touching electrics. I felt a bit defeated. However, the Hobbit had other ideas.
Armed with measurements and a vague list of ideas we visited Bauhaus. A shop that spans for miles and compels you to desire the sweet relief of death after ten minutes aimlessly wandering up and down the vast aisles. I proceeded to measure all the sinks but alas none would work with the trays and I didn't want to compromise yet. After slogging around Bauhaus for what felt like a lifetime (it's like dog years, one minute spent in these big DIY stores is around one hour knocked off your life) we abandoned ship no further along in the quest.
Despite the bargain sink I had grown tired of this building lark and so I decided to put all my energy into throwing money at the problem and just find someone to do it for me instead. I needed the big three, electrician, plumber and carpenter, ideally all in one place, so I scoured the internet in search of this mystery saviour. I got nowhere fast so I started asking tradespeople I'd worked with at my day job to see if any wanted a side hustle or knew someone that did. They didn't.
Then the Hobbit found some people advertising on Facebook. First to arrive was a plumber straight out of a stereotype, slightly bedraggled, bandaged wrist with blood showing through and a penchant for sucking through his teeth. I thought he understood the assignment (fit the sink, get water from the bathroom next door) but he wanted to go about it in the most batshit way. He wanted to take pipes from the laundry room, through the bathroom, behind the toilet and under the bath before finally reaching the darkroom (the equivalent of driving from Spain to France by starting in Portugal). I estimated he would need approximately a football field's worth of pipe to do it that way but I said just send me a quote. To add insult to injury as he was finishing he took a phone call but instead of leaving he parked his arse on my bath and sat chatting shit on his phone for an eternity while I stood like a lemon willing him to just fuck off. Two weeks later he finally emailed to say he couldn't take the job due to some bullshit excuses and that was the end of that.
Next through the revolving door of my house was another guy from Facebook. He seemed pretty interested, so much so that I dared to imagine I'd found the one. He said he'd send a quote in a few days, which didn't materialise. When I contacted him he apologised and said it would be another few days, then a week and on it went with the excuses and promises with no follow through. One month after his initial visit the bubble finally burst and he dumped me and my poxy darkroom because he had bigger fish to fry (I'm paraphrasing). Seemingly regretful about keeping me on the hook for so long he said he would give me some numbers of people who may be interested. He didn't.
I'm not ashamed to admit this was the straw that broke the Laura. My darkroom didn't seem to want to materialise beyond a second hand sink and an empty cupboard with no water or power. After having a good cry and a day off from the whole escapade I got back on the hunt, abandoning Facebook as a source because it clearly wasn't the one. Instead I investigated a company I'd previously dismissed as too flouncy who make countertops called Fantofell. They use a company called G-Verk to do the installation work and so they are who I contacted next. I was beginning to feel like Vivien in Pretty Woman (only less prostitutey) when no one would take her money. I had nothing to lose by trying them and so booked an appointment for someone to come and yank my chain a bit more.
A week later a nice man turned up wearing a bluetooth earpiece, personal organiser in hand and no seeping bandages in sight. He looked at all my plans and said they'd be able to get it done before Summer. I hadn't expected to ever get it done let alone have a functioning darkroom in a matter of weeks! Icelandic summer is from June to August which is when the whole working population go on holiday simultaneously and services come to a painful crawl, you simply cannot count on being able to get shit done. So on this day in April to not only be told the work will be accepted but it will be complete within one month just felt like a miracle.
At some point Captain Birdseye appeared to retile the bombsite bathroom before Einstein could reattach the shower. Meanwhile Einstein himself was preoccupied searching for a missing piece of water lego he needed to finish connecting the sink and Wheezy was waiting for the countertop to be finished before it could be fitted and so next stop was electrics. Enter the Elusive Sparky who would show up for around 5 minutes at a time, say he needed to go get something real quick and then not come back for 2 days.
Next step was cutting out light from the cheap piece of shit door that doesn't fit well in the frame resulting in gaps you could drive a bus through. I bodged the biggest gap at the bottom of the door by sticking on a plastic strip I found in Bauhaus. It gently scrapes the floor as you open the door but it blocks most of the light anyway. The opening side of the door I used sticky black vinyl to create a pleat that covers the gap when closed. What can I say? It works, it shouldn't, but it does. I hung two blackout curtains on one shower curtain pole above the door to block out any remaining light. The ideal future solution would be a better door but for now this works.
As an honourable mention I´m still in two minds about whether to get a fridge or not. Feel free to comment your thoughts on that and if you think you should or should not refrigerate open chemicals because the internet sure as shit doesn't know the answer as far as I can tell. But all in all i´m definitely in love with my little Laura dungeon and I'm sure it will grow and adapt over the years to come.
So in conclusion of this epic tale of one woman's dream to have her own darkroom I'd say I've achieved what I set out to. It's taken time, some heartache, several builders and some tweaking on my part but definitely very little DIY skills. It definitely goes to prove you don't need to know how to build stuff with wood and shit to have your own darkroom but it certainly does help if you know someone who does!