Filigree in Steel - the 1935 Duesenberg Model J

Working with metal doesn't have to mean heavy tools, a cluttered workshop, and scraped knuckles on sharp edges. It can be a remarkably delicate pursuit — as I hope to demonstrate in the following pages.

As a passionate scale modeller, I first noticed Metal Earth kits sharing shelf space with plastic and RC models at a local store. I had a look, but didn't give them a second thought at the time. They appeared to be simple, uncoloured sets aimed at younger builders. Years later, however, I found myself scrolling through the Metal Earth website and discovered their more advanced kits — some with pre-coloured parts and genuinely attractive subjects, among them the magnificent 1935 Duesenberg Model J. At that point, I knew I simply had to build one.

Essential Tools

1. Clippers — a quality pair, repurposed from a cheap or unused pedicure set works perfectly well
2. Tweezers (pointed) — for accessing narrow areas
3. Tweezers (flat) — for gripping parts firmly

Shaping Aids

1. Cylindrical objects of varying diameters (approximately 2mm to 3–4cm), such as nails, drill bits, batteries, small bottles

Adhesives

1. Cyanoacrylate (CA) glue — for fixing wobbly joints or broken parts

Workspace Organisation

1. Small plastic containers, such as recycled yoghurt pots, empty cheese boxes or any similar small lidded or open containers for storing prepared and finished parts

When venturing into a new hobby, or branching out from your usual subjects, the cost of additional tools can be a real barrier. Not so with this kind of kit. While you can certainly use the occasion to expand your toolkit, you really only need a handful of items — and you likely have most of them on your desk already. My suggestion is to keep things simple: a decent pair of clippers (I borrowed mine from an old pedicure set), one or two tweezers (one pointed, one flat, for accessing tight spaces and gripping small parts firmly), and a selection of cylindrical objects ranging from a few millimetres to roughly three or four centimetres in diameter to help form curves — think nails, drill bits, batteries, or small bottles. One thing you'll rarely see mentioned, but which I'd strongly recommend, is keeping a tube of cyanoacrylate (CA) glue within reach. It is invaluable for coaxing wobbly joints back into place or rescuing a broken component — and no matter how careful you are, both will happen eventually.

Since the parts are quite small, ensure your working area is tidy and well lit. This will make it far easier to retrieve the piece that inevitably pings off your pliers and skitters across the table. A few recycled yoghurt pots, small cheese boxes, or similar containers are also worth having to hand, for storing prepared parts and completed sub-assemblies waiting to be joined. You'll be grateful for them the first time you nearly sweep a finished wheel arch into the carpet.

A few building tips are worth bearing in mind. Always use your clippers to remove parts from the sheet — bending or twisting them free risks distorting the surrounding metal and will create headaches further down the line. Only detach the part you are about to work on, to reduce the chance of misplacing the rest. Before bending or shaping any component, double-check the direction: the scored fold lines make bending straightforward, but they also weaken the material, meaning that straightening and re-bending a part will almost certainly cause it to snap. And above all — don't rush. Check the parts and instructions twice if you need to, and look up other builders' logs online if something isn't clear.

Once you've tidied your workspace, set up the lights, lined up your tools, and put aside the next few hours, the fun can begin.

On this particular kit, the parts on the metal sheets are not individually labelled, but the first page of the instructions provides a clear parts list, so identification is straightforward.

The assembly flowchart is sensibly divided into short, manageable sections, with newly added parts highlighted in red and detailed pictograms illustrating both the bending direction and the method of attachment.

The steps themselves are repetitive, but never monotonous. You separate a part from the sheet, bend or shape it, insert its fixing tabs into the corresponding slots, and then twist the tabs to lock everything in place. Those tabs, incidentally, can be secured in two ways: bent flat at ninety degrees for joints that need to lie flush, or twisted at ninety degrees where a firmer hold is required.

The opening steps involve assembling the chassis, with a handful of components on the underside remaining visible on the finished model. Finished in chrome, these catch the light beautifully against the surrounding black metalwork.

The parts on the underside of the vehicle — difficult to identify precisely at this stage — were shaped to small boxes using flat-tipped tweezers. As noted earlier, it was especially important to pay close attention to bending direction: correcting a mistake here almost always results in a damaged part. Fortunately, the instructions clearly indicate both the painted side of each component and the intended bending direction, which remains easy to follow throughout the build.

It was at this stage that the first locking tabs had to be twisted to interlock the parts. I was initially sceptical that a simple twist would hold things securely without fouling subsequent assemblies — but the positioning of these fasteners proved remarkably well considered.

The lower body carrier plate needed to be formed at the very first step, but the instructions offered little visual reference for its final shape. The solution was to look several steps ahead and identify which other components would reinforce the form. As a result, when the side walls came up for assembly on page three, only minor corrections were needed.

By around page three, you will be working on the open cockpit, where the carefully colour-matched parts do a convincing job of evoking the elegance of the original car.

The first step of the cockpit assembly presented multiple bends on a carrier plate. Again, the exact angles and positions weren't entirely clear from the illustration, but looking ahead a few steps resolved any uncertainty.

While the flat metal parts did a convincing job of representing the various interior elements, the brake and shifter levers are short on detail. I briefly considered replacing them with round wire stock, but thought better of it — this was meant to be an enjoyable build, not an exercise in obsessive detailing.

The red leather seats were my favourite section of an already impressive kit. Assembled from several parts shaped around cylindrical forms at various points, they reward careful attention to how the pieces interlock — getting that right ensures a snug fit and well-aligned results.

Like the levers, the steering wheel is also flat, so for those with the urge to detail further, it could be re-fabricated from thin copper wire and painted. I chose not to — for reasons already given.

Once the lower body and cockpit carrier were joined on page five, the whole assembly gained real rigidity. I had been somewhat concerned that the finished vehicle might end up feeling wobbly.

The wheel rims are excellently detailed, and fitting the decorative centre section to the outer rim looked more intimidating than it actually was. A few small adjustments to the central part were all it took for everything to align cleanly.

The tyres themselves are bent from flat strips. I used a small plastic bottle of roughly the same diameter as the finished wheel and gradually worked the strip around it to coax it into shape. You'll need to take your time here, but any minor irregularities will self-correct once you insert and secure the four tabs into the outer rim.

By the time you reach the fourth wheel, the process feels almost automatic.

The most demanding stage of the build is undoubtedly the bodywork. These are the largest components, and most require careful shaping — a process made trickier by the limited visual references in the instructions. I had to continually offer the bonnet up to the body, and the body up to the chassis, checking the fit at every stage. It looks impressive and it is genuinely challenging, but with patience and a steady hand it is entirely manageable. Pay attention that the ends meet and that the part stays symmetrical. Completing it successfully provides a considerable boost of confidence for everything that follows.

The parts that refused to cooperate completely were the headlights. I ended up deciding that the results I obtained were good enough and not stress too much over it. However, I still look at them and just KNOW that could have turned out better. At the same time, will anyone notice the problem if not pointed out? Most probably won’t.

That said, there are further tests of skill ahead — this is a moderate-difficulty kit, after all. Another element that gave me the a lot of trouble was the wheel arches. These have a complex compound curve and are rather poorly represented in the instructions, making them the one point at which I resorted to consulting photographs of the real car, finished models, and other builders' accounts online. The extra time spent here was well worthwhile, though: once in place, the arches contribute enormously to the model's elegant stance.

The key here was to constantly shape in small steps and offer up to the body to check for alignment and gaps. Then, when one side was done, repeat the same on the other side, eventually returning to the first one in an iterative process until both parts lined up and were symmetrical. It didn’t turn out perfect, to be honest but you’ll reach a point where you just have to move on.

It is worth noting that the assembly sequence on this kit is well considered — sub-assemblies are joined together progressively as you build, rather than all being combined in one fraught final stage where accumulated small inaccuracies refuse to align. It is a sensible approach, and one that keeps the experience enjoyable throughout.

Was it an enjoyable build? Absolutely. Did I ever feel like abandoning it? Not quite — though I did set it aside on a couple of occasions before frustration could take hold. Will I build another metal kit? Yes, one day I certainly shall.

The finished model is a beautifully compact representation of a motor car from one of the most glamorous eras in automotive history — the sort of thing that sits on your desk and quietly turns heads, perhaps prompting the occasional question about how it was made. In a world that grows ever more digitally focused, there is something quietly satisfying about having built it entirely with your hands.