Buying an arcade cabinet kit should feel like a fun project. It should be challenging in the satisfying way, not in the “why am I reverse-engineering the thing I just paid for?” way.
Our experience with LEP1 Customs was frustrating from multiple angles, but two problems stood out immediately: the instructions were dog water, and the artwork support was even worse.
This was not the smooth DIY arcade cabinet experience we expected. It felt like buying a kit that technically gives you parts, but leaves you to figure out way too much on your own.
The Instructions Are Dog Water
Let’s start with the instructions.
They are bad.
Not “slightly confusing” bad. Not “could use a few more photos” bad. More like “you already need to know what you’re doing before these instructions become useful” bad.
For a cabinet kit, that is a huge problem. The entire point of buying a kit is that the difficult parts should already be thought through. The parts should be clear. The order of assembly should be clear. The hardware should be clear. The tricky steps should be explained before you get stuck.
Instead, the instructions feel barebones, under-explained, and not nearly polished enough for a product being sold to regular customers. You are left filling in gaps, making assumptions, and hoping you are interpreting things correctly.
That is not good documentation. That is a scavenger hunt.
A DIY Kit Still Needs Real Instructions
Yes, this is a DIY arcade cabinet. Nobody expects it to assemble itself.
But “DIY” does not mean “good luck.”
A proper cabinet kit should give customers a clear path from box of parts to finished cabinet. That means labeled parts, detailed diagrams, clear hardware callouts, assembly order, warnings about common mistakes, and enough explanation that a normal customer can follow along without guessing.
LEP1 Customs missed that mark for us.
The instructions felt like they were written by someone who already knew how the cabinet went together and forgot that the customer does not. That is a common problem with small-shop instructions, but it is still a problem. If you sell kits, the instructions are part of the product.
And in this case, that part of the product was not good.
The Artwork Support Was Even Worse
As frustrating as the instructions were, the artwork process was the bigger disappointment.
We purchased an arcade cabinet and wanted to create custom graphics for it. That should be normal. Arcade cabinets are visual products. The side art, control panel, marquee, and bezel are a huge part of what makes the finished cabinet look good.
Because we own vinyl printing and cutting equipment, we reached out to LEP1 Customs and asked if they could provide dimensions, a vector path, or a CAD-style outline so we could make graphics for our personal cabinet.
They refused to provide templates.
So we asked if they could at least provide dimensions.
They refused that too.
Their recommendation was to measure everything ourselves because it was “tedious, but not difficult.”
That is not helpful. That is exactly the kind of tedious work a cabinet maker should have already solved.
Customers Should Not Have To Reverse-Engineer The Cabinet
This is the part that really bothers us.
LEP1 Customs cuts the cabinet parts. That means they have the dimensions. They have the panel shapes. They know where the control panel holes are. They know the marquee size. They know the side panel outline. They know the bezel area.
So why should a paying customer have to measure every panel manually just to make graphics?
We were not asking for files so we could manufacture their cabinet. We were not trying to copy their product. We were simply trying to make artwork fit the cabinet we bought.
There is a big difference between sharing protected production files and providing customer-facing artwork templates. A basic artwork template could show trim lines, bleed, safe zones, and hole placement without giving away anything meaningful about the manufacturing process.
That would be normal support for a custom arcade cabinet.
Instead, we were told to figure it out ourselves.
The Etsy Messages Made It Worse
The seller’s attitude made the whole thing feel worse.
After we explained that we were not trying to steal their intellectual property and only wanted to make graphics for our own cabinet, the seller threatened to report us to Etsy if we continued asking.
That was ridiculous.
Asking for graphics dimensions for a cabinet we purchased should not be treated like misconduct. We were not harassing them. We were not threatening them. We were not demanding free design work. We were asking for practical information needed to finish the product properly.
The response felt hostile and unnecessary.
A simple “Sorry, we do not provide templates, but here are the basic panel dimensions” would have solved most of the problem. Instead, they would not provide templates, would not provide dimensions, and then acted like asking was somehow out of line.
That is not the kind of customer service we want from a company selling custom arcade kits.
The Kit Feels Incomplete Without Better Support
The cabinet kit may technically include the physical parts, but the overall experience feels incomplete.
If the instructions are weak and the artwork support is nonexistent, the customer is left doing too much detective work.
You have to figure out assembly details from bad instructions.
You have to measure panels yourself.
You have to rebuild your own artwork templates.
You have to guess where graphics should land.
You have to hope your vinyl fits after printing.
That is not a polished kit experience. That is a pile of parts with homework attached.
And sure, some hobbyists may be fine with that. If you love tinkering, measuring, modifying, and solving mystery problems, maybe LEP1 Customs will work for you.
But if you expect clean instructions, helpful support, and a reasonable path to custom graphics, this is not it.
Why The Artwork Issue Matters So Much
Arcade graphics are not optional decoration. They are one of the main reasons people build custom cabinets.
A control panel graphic has to line up with buttons and joysticks. Side art has to match the cabinet shape. A marquee has to fit the exact display area. A bezel has to frame the screen correctly. Small errors can make the finished cabinet look sloppy.
And printing large-format laminated vinyl is not free. If the file is wrong, you may be stuck reprinting the graphics.
That is why accurate templates matter.
A company selling arcade cabinet kits should understand this. LEP1 Customs should provide basic artwork dimensions for every kit they sell. If they do not want to provide full vector files, fine. But refusing even useful dimensions is unnecessarily customer-hostile.
Our Overall Experience
Our overall experience with LEP1 Customs was disappointing.
The instructions were bad. The artwork support was worse. The seller interaction on Etsy was frustrating and, in our opinion, unnecessarily rude.
The whole thing made the product feel much less professional than it should. A cabinet kit should make the project easier. LEP1 Customs made parts of the project harder than they needed to be.
We can deal with some DIY effort. We can deal with measuring if we absolutely have to. We can deal with a kit that requires patience.
What we do not appreciate is poor documentation, no useful graphics support, and a seller threatening to report a paying customer for asking reasonable questions about artwork dimensions.
Final Verdict: Avoid LEP1 Customs
We would not recommend LEP1 Customs if you care about instructions, artwork, or customer support.
If you want a bare-bones cabinet kit and you are comfortable figuring everything out yourself, maybe you will be fine. But if you want clear instructions, accurate graphics templates, helpful dimensions, or a smooth custom artwork workflow, avoid LEP1 Customs.
The instructions are dog water. The artwork support is practically nonexistent. And the customer service experience left us regretting the purchase.
For a custom arcade cabinet kit, that is not good enough.