The subject matter is about as plain as the title. This is the making of it... it was quite a week...
We were on a band trip. Isn't that how all good stories start out? Anywho, me and my crew were never ones for sleeping at night. There was me, Squats, Miss Pepper, and Sprank all put in one room together.
"Ladies, I need your help with something." I said as I pulled out the rolls upon rolls of duct tape I bought from the store earlier. Delicious colours consisting of Taxi Cab Yellow, Turquoise, and Safety Vest Orange.
"There is a duct tape prom dress competition, and I'm doing it."
After many minutes of strategizing how to start, we decided the skirt of the dress was better than anywhere else. We made a belt of tape around my waist, then tried to make streamers as a skeleton for the bell of the skirt. Wasn't working.
"We need something to hold the shape of the skirt as we make it." Said Pepper.
"What if we each hold a side and just wrap it?" Asked Squats.
"No, no! Ging, stand on the table, and we'll tape the bell of the skirt to the round table, and build it from there!" Said Pepper.
"Yes! Perfect!" So up I went, standing tall on the small round table in the hotel room, head touching the ceiling. The gals started wrapping, cutting, and double-siding the yellow tape, but this skirt project was taking longer than expected....
"Hey Guys? I think my legs are going numb." I said, trying to hold myself in a very upright position.
Pepper looks at Squats. "Ging, did you lock your knees?" Squats asked.
"What what?"
"Like, are your legs completely straight? Without a slight bend?"
"Yeah they're straight. It's how I'm keeping the skirt frame so tight...."
Pepper looks at Squats again, sighs. They look up at me, "We're going to get you down."
I felt my knees buckling as they detached the tape skirt skeleton from the table.
"Shit! Catch her!" Said Pepper, and I went toppling down on Squats.
Sprankle sat and watched, the youngest of us by three years, having no clue dafuq these gals were doing....
I just lay there for a second before laughing.
"That means she's okay right?" Said Pepper.
"No, she laughs when she gets hurt. Is she hurt?" Said Squats.
"Ging? Ging?" They kept looking at me, calling my name, but all I could do was giggle.
"Ravioli" I said.
"We don't have a can opener." Squats said, looking at the top of the can.
"I have a pocket knife?" Said Pepper.
They butchered the top until it was safely jagged at the top.
"I can't eat this cold." Said Squats.
"The coffee pot!" I drug it down to the floor with me, and put the can on the little hot plate of the coffee maker.
"Spoons anyone?" Squats said.
"Here, use these!" Sprank jumped in on the comotion with stirring straws.
"This is so worthless." Said Pepper giggling. Pretty soon we were all laughing like lunatics, me sprawled on the floor in tape, the other three gathered around, all of us like barbarians next to a fire. Our fire was Ravioli. Fuck yeah.
Next, we tried to start the bust. "Just wrap me up, with the sticky side of the tape facing upward, then we'll go through and wrap me with the tape facing down and make it look nice."
Next thing you know, "SUCK IT IN! SUCK IT IN!" Pepper was laughing hysterically. "Ging, your boobs are huge!" Squats said, looking at my profile. They wrapped my ribs and stomach so tight my boobs were popping out. Sprank laughed her ass off.
"We have to cut it! THERE'S NO OTHER WAY!" I said, struggling to breathe.
They got the scissors and cut it down the back. I held it up, looking at the form of the figure still held.. "Dude. It'll be like a corset."
The next weekend, hours before the prom was the next time I was working on it. Crunch time. I had another ging help me on it this time. We made the string out of duct tape, punched holes in the back of the "corset" and voila. then we attached the skirt, added accents with the Turquoise and Orange, and the man came over.
The pro slapped together a tux much more efficiently and quickly than the dress. His mum even made him a duct tape tie. We were ballin. To top it off, add two pairs of duct tape converse. Fuck. Yeah.
Needless to say, it was friggin hot as hell to wear. No ventilation. We stripped the duct tape garb and put on our dancing clothes for the rest of the evening.
That, my children. Is the story of the duct tape dress.
We were on a band trip. Isn't that how all good stories start out? Anywho, me and my crew were never ones for sleeping at night. There was me, Squats, Miss Pepper, and Sprank all put in one room together.
"Ladies, I need your help with something." I said as I pulled out the rolls upon rolls of duct tape I bought from the store earlier. Delicious colours consisting of Taxi Cab Yellow, Turquoise, and Safety Vest Orange.
"There is a duct tape prom dress competition, and I'm doing it."
After many minutes of strategizing how to start, we decided the skirt of the dress was better than anywhere else. We made a belt of tape around my waist, then tried to make streamers as a skeleton for the bell of the skirt. Wasn't working.
"We need something to hold the shape of the skirt as we make it." Said Pepper.
"What if we each hold a side and just wrap it?" Asked Squats.
"No, no! Ging, stand on the table, and we'll tape the bell of the skirt to the round table, and build it from there!" Said Pepper.
"Yes! Perfect!" So up I went, standing tall on the small round table in the hotel room, head touching the ceiling. The gals started wrapping, cutting, and double-siding the yellow tape, but this skirt project was taking longer than expected....
"Hey Guys? I think my legs are going numb." I said, trying to hold myself in a very upright position.
Pepper looks at Squats. "Ging, did you lock your knees?" Squats asked.
"What what?"
"Like, are your legs completely straight? Without a slight bend?"
"Yeah they're straight. It's how I'm keeping the skirt frame so tight...."
Pepper looks at Squats again, sighs. They look up at me, "We're going to get you down."
I felt my knees buckling as they detached the tape skirt skeleton from the table.
"Shit! Catch her!" Said Pepper, and I went toppling down on Squats.
Sprankle sat and watched, the youngest of us by three years, having no clue dafuq these gals were doing....
I just lay there for a second before laughing.
"That means she's okay right?" Said Pepper.
"No, she laughs when she gets hurt. Is she hurt?" Said Squats.
"Ging? Ging?" They kept looking at me, calling my name, but all I could do was giggle.
"Ravioli" I said.
"We don't have a can opener." Squats said, looking at the top of the can.
"I have a pocket knife?" Said Pepper.
They butchered the top until it was safely jagged at the top.
"I can't eat this cold." Said Squats.
"The coffee pot!" I drug it down to the floor with me, and put the can on the little hot plate of the coffee maker.
"Spoons anyone?" Squats said.
"Here, use these!" Sprank jumped in on the comotion with stirring straws.
"This is so worthless." Said Pepper giggling. Pretty soon we were all laughing like lunatics, me sprawled on the floor in tape, the other three gathered around, all of us like barbarians next to a fire. Our fire was Ravioli. Fuck yeah.
Next, we tried to start the bust. "Just wrap me up, with the sticky side of the tape facing upward, then we'll go through and wrap me with the tape facing down and make it look nice."
Next thing you know, "SUCK IT IN! SUCK IT IN!" Pepper was laughing hysterically. "Ging, your boobs are huge!" Squats said, looking at my profile. They wrapped my ribs and stomach so tight my boobs were popping out. Sprank laughed her ass off.
"We have to cut it! THERE'S NO OTHER WAY!" I said, struggling to breathe.
They got the scissors and cut it down the back. I held it up, looking at the form of the figure still held.. "Dude. It'll be like a corset."
The next weekend, hours before the prom was the next time I was working on it. Crunch time. I had another ging help me on it this time. We made the string out of duct tape, punched holes in the back of the "corset" and voila. then we attached the skirt, added accents with the Turquoise and Orange, and the man came over.
The pro slapped together a tux much more efficiently and quickly than the dress. His mum even made him a duct tape tie. We were ballin. To top it off, add two pairs of duct tape converse. Fuck. Yeah.
Needless to say, it was friggin hot as hell to wear. No ventilation. We stripped the duct tape garb and put on our dancing clothes for the rest of the evening.
That, my children. Is the story of the duct tape dress.
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