On The Gold Coast: Papier Mâché - Big And Small
"Mrs Oddy, dressed only in her underwear, stood before my mother who was pasting strips of brown paper onto our neighbour's body from shoulders to thighs,'' says Judith Wallis, recalling an incident from her childhood. Now, as they say, read on...
Now that I own an electric paper shredder I plan to realize a long held dream of making a full size merry-go-round horse out of paper-mâchè. I have been saving old phone books for years. All I need is a strongman to tear them apart for me. I know the project will take a while, building up slowly from a wire base with sloppy handfuls of mushy paper, adding the finishing layers. then fine sanding the shape. I have no idea where I am going to display the finished horse. I just want to make it.
My class teacher introduced me to the craft of paper-mache at the age of six. Each child in the class made their mother a paper-mâchè calendar. First we covered a sheet of cardboard with tiny pieces of newspaper dipped in flour paste. After three coats the card was a solid as plywood and we added a final layer of pretty wallpaper, pasted on a colourful picture and a penny calendar from Woolworth’s store, added a string to hang it by and there it was. A handmade gift for mother.
I loved this craft and with an ample supply of old wallpaper sample books and paste from my grandfather and some help from mother, I turned out a multitude of small gifts for the family. There was no need to guess what Judith would give as a birthday or Christmas present.
But my mother, together with her friend and neighbour Mrs Oddy, produced the biggest and most amazing piece of paper-mâchè ever. One Saturday morning mother announced she would be spending the day at Mrs Oddy's and we children were to stay at home. On no account were we to visit Mrs Oddy’s house. It was all very mystifying but we did as requested until lunch time when we ran out of milk. Busting with delight at having a reason to go to mother I ran across the road and in at the back door of Mrs Oddy’s kitchen calling ‘Hello. Can I come in?’ as I bounded through. At the dinning room I stopped and clutched the door frame for support.
Mrs Oddy, dressed only in her underwear, stood before my mother who was pasting strips of brown paper onto our neighbour’s body from shoulders to thighs. The astonishing sight of the almost naked, short and tubby Mrs Oddy caused me to catch my breath and I choked. Mother turned around and I thought from the exasperated look on her face she would let me die of choking, but she patted my back helping me to breathe freely again. ‘Now you are here, sit down,’ she said. And I was forced to spend a terribly boring Saturday afternoon watching mother create a dressmaker’s dummy out of Mrs Oddy. As the sun set I was sent to sit on the back step while mother cut the hardened shape from Mrs Oddy’s Vasaline coated body. I was eager to be off, to spread the stupendous news of what I had seen, but mother made me promise to keep the secret. And I have, until now.
