May 6, 2026
Buy Cheap First. Then Go Ham.
How I went from a $300 Elegoo Neptune in the bathroom to a $3,000 Bambu H2C in a 2x2 meter art studio, without ever once following the 'buy nice or cry once' rule.
There is a piece of advice that gets handed out like candy in hobby communities: "Buy once, cry once." Buy the best version up front. You will spend more anyway, so just do it now.
I think it is mostly terrible advice. If I had followed it, I would either be broke, or still researching what to buy instead of actually building anything.
Over the last 10 years I have picked up woodworking, Lego, Gunpla, 3D printing, electronics, leatherworking, and a half dozen smaller obsessions. Every single one of them has followed the exact same arc:
- I discover the hobby.
- I disappear into a rabbit hole for a few days.
- I get completely obsessed.
- I buy the cheap version, half-knowing I might bail.
- I make something small and immediately want to make something much bigger.
- I fill an online cart with tools, materials, and upgrades, trying to maximize what fits in a budget.
- I stare at the cart for days while a small voice whispers "just buy it, you need it all, this one's different."
- I snap into "screw it" mode and order everything at once. (This part feels amazing.)
- The obsession fades. Sometimes in a week. Sometimes in months. You can feel it happening while it happens.
- All the new stuff sits in the garage.
My hobby is collecting hobbies. I have made peace with that.
So I built a rule that works with my brain instead of against it.
The rule: buy cheap first, then go ham
Buy the cheapest version first. Use it for weeks or months. See if it sticks.
If it doesn't, you learned something for $50 instead of $5,000.
If it does, then you go all in, because the second purchase is not impulsive anymore. You have proven to yourself that you actually use the thing.
I have done this with woodworking. I have done it with 3D printing. I have done it with the house we live in now. (We built the "cheap" version of our dream house while we figure out the dream version.)
How it played out for 3D printing
I bought an Elegoo Neptune 3 because I wanted to print an Iron Man helmet. Then upgraded to a Neptune 4 Plus a bit later for a bigger build volume. Maybe $300 total. Firmly in cheap-first territory.
For months I barely touched it. We had just moved into a new house. Life happened.
Fast forward to this year, and that same Elegoo is the backbone of an entire Iron Man suit build with a public deadline. For the price, it is honestly a solid machine. Its best just isn't enough. Clogs, failed prints, the calf piece that has now failed three times in a row. With the deadline tightening, the answer was either "panic" or "level up."
I leveled up.
The decision: which Bambu?
I started looking at Bambu Lab printers. I am sure the fact that every single YouTuber on earth seems to be sponsored by Bambu had absolutely zero influence on me. None at all. Ahem.
(This video, for the record, is not sponsored.)
I wanted reliability and speed. So I started reasonable. But you know how it goes. You're already about to spend serious money, the gap to the top tier doesn't feel that big anymore, and the brain starts asking "should I just get the best?"
P2S. H2S. H2D. H2C.
I asked the real question: what do I actually need? Speed and reliability for the suit, yes. But also, multi-color capability for printing toys with my kid, without wasting half a kilo on purge towers.
That last one landed on the H2C. The most expensive option, but also the most versatile for the next 10 years. And honestly, 3D printing a Paw Patrol Lookout Tower with my son is priceless.
(Mateo, if you're watching this: tell daddy what to say. "Please subscribe my daddy.")
So I ordered it. First print came out perfect. No regrets.
The bonus chaos
While I was setting up the H2C, a friend offered to lend me a Snapmaker Artisan. Three machines in one body: 3D printer, laser engraver, CNC. I said yes immediately without thinking, which is very on brand.
So in the space of a few weeks I went from one printer to three. With nowhere to put them.
The art studio takeover
The obvious solution was to turn my wife's art studio into a print farm. She was totally fine with it. (For real.)
The room is 2 meters by 2 meters. Tiny. But it has air conditioning, which in Phuket is non-negotiable for filament that does not want to behave. I built custom tables from leftover wood from my workbench build. The first attempt was on wheels, because I thought mobility would be nice. Turns out you want stability over mobility for a machine slinging a hot bed around at 500 mm/s. Swapped to rubber feet.
Added a pegboard for tools, a small shelving unit, a DIY desk for monitoring runs, and a dehumidifier set to keep humidity around 35 to 40 percent.
That last piece probably matters more than the printers.
The current lineup
Three printers, one art studio.
- The Elegoo Neptune 4 Plus: the cheap test that proved I was serious before I spent real money. Still earning its keep. Still occasionally clogging.
- The Bambu H2C: fast, reliable, just works. This is what "go ham" is supposed to look like. The AMS 2 Pro has had a few filament-breaking incidents that required disassembly, but otherwise it is the workhorse for the next decade.
- The Snapmaker Artisan: the wildcard. Does everything. Which usually means it does not do any of them particularly well, and that is checking out. The 3D printing side is slow enough that I have basically not used it. I am still trying to find its purpose. I will report back.
The takeaway
38 days left on the suit clock. Three printers running. A 2x2 meter room that no longer looks like an art studio. Sorry, wife.
The rule that got me here: buy cheap first, prove you'll stick with it, then go ham. The opposite of "buy once, cry once." The only rule that has consistently saved me from a garage full of expensive equipment for hobbies I quit.
If you have a graveyard of abandoned hobby gear sitting somewhere, tell me about it in the comments. What was the one that got you, and the big purchase you regret?
I bet the regret was always the expensive one you bought before you knew if you'd stick.