Materials: 2 rolls gummed Kraft paper tape (of which we ended up using less than 1 (each was 150 meters)). Old t-shirt. Old newspapers and a box to cannibalize for cardboard. Trombone stand. Lots of patience, both on the part of the taper and the be-taped.

Time: A weekend.

Cost: $10!

Hoo, boy. I’ve put off posting this one for some time because it was a big project, both in terms of execution and technique. It shouldn’t be intimidating at all, though — mostly, patience is the key component — so here are some notes if you’re interested in making your own paper tape dress form.

First of all, there are some excellent resources available online. I spent a few days poking about on the web while researching dress forms. I was shocked to find that the general consensus was that customized dress forms — even ones made from a roll of duct tape and an old t-shirt — are better than the ones you find in yardage stores for $250 a pop, because there’s a lot more variation between women’s bodies than just bust / waist / hip measurements. I wouldn’t mind having a vintage dress form, but I’d need to custom-pad it to match my body, and I know I’d be too lazy to do that; plus, local hipsters have a lock on the vintage dress form market. Even if the final result was lumpy and pear-shaped, I figured that making my own would still be better than nothing for rough fittings and pinning in darts.

After some research, I decided to go with paper tape, instead of duct tape. Word on the street is that duct tape dummies can get lumpy and misshapen over time, though of course it’s easier to find duct tape than it is gummed Kraft paper tape. I spent a weekend scouring the local art-supply and building stores that I could think of, only to eventually find the stuff online (as “Kraft tape”) at De Serres for $5 CAD a 150-meter roll. And I could have gone right down to their enormous store downtown on Ste-Catherine’s to pick it up, but decided to spend the extra $4 to have it shipped to my apartment because I was just so sick of running around. The tape was the only thing I ended up spending money on; fiberfill was an option for stuffing, but like I’ve probably mentioned, I’m cheap, and newspaper weeklies are free.

Before beginning, this old article was very helpful at giving the basics, as well as containing an intriguing formula for a stand (though our local Home Depot doesn’t carry the necessary PVC connectors). This photo essay was the best help, in terms of helping me see exactly what we’d be doing.

I should mention that this all took place during July, when Pete and I were spending at least three hours a day watching Tour de France coverage (as a missing, but necessary, TiVo cable slowly ambled its way across the border from the States). So, Pete spent a bit of time the day before pre-cutting strips of tape — breaking off long and short lengths, and slicing many of the short lengths of tape in half so that we had narrower strips for curvy bits.

Here’s Pete’s workspace as we got started: strips of pre-cut tape on the table behind him, a TV tray with a bowl of water to dunk each slice of tape, and another small bowl to wipe it down with a washcloth afterward. Behind us is our TV, taking us through the final stage of the 2008 Tour. This was something like five hours of coverage, so… good timing.

Also on the other side: me, wearing the old June of ‘44 t-shirt destined to be taped. Plus my awesome old pyjama bottoms. (Note: due to the TdF broadcasting schedule, we began at 7:30 am EST on a Sunday morning.) Said t-shirt was always mysteriously long, which was good in this case.

First, you want to create a solid foundation around the upper torso by doing the cross-your-heart thing seen here. Note as well that the person being taped is also the designated remote-control holder. You can also use a garbage bag as a frame, but the t-shirt breathed more (important when you’re going to be wearing it for four hours) and held the first layer of tape well.

Same thing on the back. Pete was careful to get the contours around my shoulder blades, which I think was a nice touch. He made an excellent, excellent helper because he’s got an eye for detail and is very precise. If I had had his job, the finished result would have looked like a lopsided pinata.

Here’s the back being filled in. Note the cross-hatching action happening, which allowed the back contours to be traced nicely — it’s like the tape strips are being hung on the bias. Note also Pete’s attention to the Tour, even though the final standings never change on the last stage. Hey, you need something to amuse you during this process.

Here’s the back almost filled in. You can use wider strips than this, which won’t take nearly as long; like I said, though, my taper was detail-oriented, and that’s OK. But the other reason why it’s good to start with the torso — you can sit and move around without disrupting the tape while it dries. We ended up using 2-3 layers of tape total, and it was plenty thick.

Working on the front, in the same fashion (using diagonal strips). I love this photo because Garth randomly appears in it for one frame, then disappears again.

We also filled out the shoulders here, and added extensions to bring the neckline up higher. This — perhaps my most flattering photo ever — was the first genuinely uncomfortable bit, but it took maybe five or ten minutes for the paper to dry and then my neck was left free again.

At this juncture, Pete took a break to play with the cat, and I to the bathroom. It’s like when you see one of those “LAST REST STOP FOR 100 MILES” signs on the interstate — before your lower torso is immobilized, you take a bathroom break, regardless of whether you think you really need to or not.

Going lower down my back. You can see what a good job Pete has done — check out my shapely scapula!

Farther down the torso. Oh, hey there, Garth.

Almost done! Over three hours had elapsed at this point, and I was ready to be finished; oddly, the thing that bothered me most was not being able to move or rotate my shoulders. Since our progress on this was slow, it was almost entirely dry by the time we cut it off.

There are no extant photos of removal, because it was, er, involved. It takes a lot of force to cut through the accumulated layers of tape and t-shirt fabric, but I was also irrationally opposed to the “gouge Katie’s back” strategy. When all was said and done, I sat on the couch rolling my shoulders around in circles for about fifteen minutes. Pete put a hanger through the shoulders, and sealed the back closed with more strips of tape.

And from the back. I liked having a long t-shirt to work with, because I can use the dummy to fit clothes through the lower hip.

My dummy and me! Further inspection reveals that the finished dress form is slightly larger than I am — a tailored shirt I was working on didn’t quite close across the bust while on the dummy, but did on me, for example — but that’s not entirely a bad thing. The paper tape isn’t too thick, so as long as you’re taping carefully, there shouldn’t be much growth. Plus, I like that the minimal investment of time and money in this dummy means that I can easily make another one if I significantly gain or lose weight, and I don’t need to worry about it getting destroyed in yet another move.

I hadn’t put much thought into a mount for this thing, but you do want it securely stable or it’ll be a real pain to use. (Imagine yourself draping a garment, and the dress form promptly falling over.) Pete ended up installing a cardboard diaphragm and tube up the center, stuffing the outside with crumpled newspaper, closing off the bottom with more cardboard, and sitting it on an old trombone stand. This works well and took less than an hour to rig up, though it was contingent upon the trombone stand’s ability to escape intact.

And, a word of warning — this is actually the second time in two weekends that we did this project. Yes, we did it twice. The first time, we sprayed the inside of the dummy with a can of aerosol foam sealer, which was very fun — but something about the moisture of the foam made the dress form dry all lumpy and misshapen! Not cool. So use spray foam at your own risk.

All in all, I’m super-pleased with the finished product. I’ve been using it in conjunction with Fit for Real People, which — despite sounding like a diet plan, having dated photos, and really believing in the healing power of shoulder pads — is incredibly helpful. I can’t recommend it highly enough, and it’s helped give me the courage to make alterations and chop patterns apart so they fit me properly. This is probably the single best thing I’ve done to improve my sewing, and perhaps also one of the easiest.

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 6th, 2008 at 10:18 am and is filed under projects. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.