The Vietnam War, \u201cBlack Power,\u201d the \u201cHippie\u201d counterculture, the \u201cpill,\u201d \u201csit-ins\u201d and protests, the Kennedy and King assassinations, the Beatles, the Kent State massacre, Star Trek<\/em>, the \u201cSummer of Love,\u201d long hair and bell bottoms, and Rolling Stone<\/em> magazine\u2014opened America’s eyes (as well as much of the world’s) to realities and possibilities never before imagined; some good, some bad, some on the verge of absurd. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Case in point: the paper dress. One of the boldest fashion statements of the decade.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the spring of 1966, the Scott Paper Company<\/em>, one of the leading manufacturers of household paper products, launched a magazine ad campaign promoting its colorful new line of bathroom tissue, paper towels, napkins, and other paper products. For a few \u201cproof-of-purchase\u201d tags, customers could redeem a mail-order coupon and receive an absurd new product: a paper dress. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Appearing in the April 29, 1966 issue of (now defunct) Life Magazine<\/em>, the ad offered two fashion options: a black-and-white \u201cOp Art\u201d print dress, and a red Paisley bandanna pattern–either dress for the preposterously low price of $1.25 (including shipping). <\/p>\n\n\n\n Although wearable paper items were already in regular use (crepe paper costumes, medical exam gowns, fast-food employee counter hats), they weren’t previously offered as mainstream fashion. And despite the seeming absurdity of paper dresses, Scott\u2019s<\/em> \u201cPaper Caper\u201d dresses were a surprise hit–and by year\u2019s end, the company had filled nearly half a million orders. <\/p>\n\n\n\n As \u201chip\u201d young women clamored to own these inexpensive paper dresses, several other paper companies jumped on the disposable clothing bandwagon; offering paper shifts advertising their favorite political candidates, candy bars, or dresses featuring \u201cgroovy\u201d patterns and avant-garde photographic images. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But while Scott’s<\/em> (and their competitors’) paper dresses were an unqualified success, it didn’t happen over night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the 1950s, a number of paper product companies (Scott<\/em>, Kimberly-Clark<\/em>) began experimenting with reinforced cellulose (plant fiber used to make paper, artificial cloth, and plastic) to make their products more durable and, perhaps, reusable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Kimberly-Clark<\/em> (the makers of Kleenex<\/em> tissue and Kotex<\/em> menstrual pads) had already developed Cellucotton<\/em> (a paper product with a high concentration of Rayon-reinforced cotton) decades before, but had now created a new, stronger version made from Nylon-reinforced cellulose called Kaycel<\/em>, intended to be marketed for hospital gowns and radiation suits. Similarly, Scott Paper Company<\/em> had come up with their own stronger cellulose-based paper called Duraweave<\/em>–consisting of Rayon scrim (a web-like product) sandwiched between two layers of cellulose fiber. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But neither manufacturer initially considered using their new, stronger paper products to enter the highly competitive fashion clothing market. In fact, both companies hesitated to even use the term \u201cpaper\u201d in relationship to their products for fear that consumers (primarily women) would equate \u201cpaper\u201d with \u201cflimsy.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n But both manufacturers misjudged the mindset of the 1960s American woman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In 1965, an engineer for Scott<\/em> became fixated on an idea that others of the industry were disinclined to consider: production and marketing of clothing made from . . . paper<\/em>. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Enlisting his wife’s help, the engineer had her design a mock-up of a basic \u201cA-line\u201d dress made of Duraweave<\/em> that could be presented to potential department-store buyers. Though far more durable than the company\u2019s paper towels, these garments were, nonetheless, paper<\/em>\u2014and intended to be discarded after a couple of wears. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Department-store buyers, however, weren’t interested. Like the paper companies, they feared women would equate \u201cpaper\u201d with \u201cflimsy\u201d–which could effect over-all business and negatively impact their image. But once word of the public’s reaction to the Life Magazine <\/em>ad began to spread, and they saw the garments being worn on the streets, retailers regretted their decision\u2014and did a quick about-turn. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But what was the attraction to paper dresses?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Between the \u201cBeat\u201d (Beatnik) Generation of the late 1940s and 1950s (centered in Greenwich Village, New York City), and the \u201cHippie\u201d counterculture of the mid-1960s (based in New York City and San Francisco, California), rose the \u201cMod\u201d subculture of the late 50s and early 60s, imported from London, England. <\/p>\n\n\n\n A product of the so-called \u201cBritish Invasion\u201d (the musical movement that introduced the Beatles, Jerry and the Pacemakers, the Rolling Stones, Donovan, and the Animals to America), the \u201cMods\u201d influenced music, fashion, and social attitude.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Unlike the \u201cBeats\u201d (or the Hippies to follow), the \u201cMods\u201d were known for zipping around town on motor scooters, taking amphetamines, their preference for R&B (or Jazz) music, and hanging out in all-night coffee bars<\/em>; cafes featuring juke boxes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But above all, \u201cMods\u201d were known for the way they dressed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Men wore stylish, neo-Italian, effeminately styled jackets and pants, while women wore very colorful (psychedelic, Op-Art, Paisley prints, striped or with wild geometric shapes) mini or \u201cA-line\u201d dresses\u2014sometimes with knee-high \u201cgo-go\u201d boots. These fashion aesthetics were popularized in the US by British Rock bands like the Who and Small Faces, singers like Petula Clark, and fashion icon, Twiggy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n But what made the \u201cMod\u201d aesthetic most beneficial to American manufacturers of paper dresses was the women’s rejection of tailored clothes–in favor of inexpensive, off-the-rack fashions. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Scott Paper Company’s <\/em>paper dresses were priced right, fit the \u201cMod\u201d design aesthetic, and had one element British fashions didn’t: they were seen as futuristic<\/em>. It was easy to imagine women of the future wearing paper garments purchased on rolls like wrapping paper that they could wear once or twice and toss away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But, were paper garments truly futuristic? <\/em>Or were they, in fact, retro<\/em>? <\/p>\n\n\n\n The earliest known production of paper clothing began in the 2nd Century CE, in ancient China\u2014prior to paper being used for writing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Made from washi<\/em> paper (a light-weight and durable paper made from tree bark, bamboo, and rice straw), various types of paper garments were developed by the Chinese through the centuries; the craft slowly spreading throughout Asia until it reached Japan in the 10th Century. <\/p>\n\n\n\n From the 10th Century forward, Japanese craftspeople produced paper garments called \u201ckamikos,\u201d white ceremonial robes wore at special events such as the O-mizutori Festival<\/em>. Kamiko crafting became a traditional Japanese artform of the Shiroishi and Miyagi regions of Japan, carried out to meticulous standards during the Edo Period (1603-1868).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Paper garments were never sold commercially in China nor Japan, but something more akin to being tailor-made to the individual; those of Japan’s Edo Period considered works of art today.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the wake of WWI, wore-torn Europe suffered many shortages including wool and other everyday textiles; nowhere more so than Germany and Austria. Out of sheer necessity, clothing manufacturers developed cloth from the one thing they had in abundance: paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In a January 1917 edition of the New York Sun, <\/em>an article noted that the Germans had devised paper-based threads for making \u201csacks and bags, girdles, doilies, aprons, and working garments,\u201d as well as dresses and other garments. The article explained that \u201cThe inventors have discovered a way to give the \u2018paper cloth\u2019 great resistance to dampness.\u201d At that point, the Germans were manufacturing certain elements of military uniforms out of paper–including those worn by submarine crews and pilots. <\/p>\n\n\n\n By 1920, German- and Austrian-made paper clothing was being produced and exported to Turkey, Italy, and England (where in London, a German-made paper suit could be purchased for $.46 to $1.95, meaning men could buy a new suit each week of the year for less than the cost a single British-made wool suit). <\/p>\n\n\n\n Drawing the attention of the American Commerce Department\u2019s<\/em> Bureau of Foreign and Domestic Commerce, <\/em>the Bureau<\/em> imported a selection of Austrian paper suits to explore the possibilities presented by paper clothing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Exhibiting them around the US to gauge public appeal (and give American clothing manufacturers an opportunity to see their competition) the AP<\/em> (Associated Press<\/em>) reported that the suits were, \u201cwarm, comfortable and durable, considering the fabric of which they are made, and not liable to tear or go to pieces when wet . . . and could be sold for about $.15.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n When similar paper garments were finally made available in the US, the most popular were men\u2019s suits; which came in a selection of 50 different styles and sold for a mere $.60 each. What\u2019s more, these suits had the novel feature of being able to be dry cleaned with an eraser! (A 1920 news photo depicted three smiling women modeling paper suits said to cost from $.25 to $.50.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n The following summer, a female beachgoer was photographed for a Chicago newspaper modeling a $1.50 bathing suit created by a local paper clothing manufacturer, the caption reading, \u201c[The suit] has withstood surprisingly well all tests for rough treatment and water wear.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n By that fall, the manufacturer was offering a complete line of paper suits, dresses, and accessories– including women\u2019s hats (of \u201cimitation straw and cloth [that] defies detection,\u201d complete with paper feathers), men’s shirt collars, and neck ties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n By the mid-1920s, however, the paper clothing novelty had worn off; partly due to paper shortages, but mostly because of America\u2019s new post-war prosperity. (Successful men did not want to be seen in a $.60 suit; their wives wanting to reflect their husband’s success.) <\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.historydefined.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/1960spaperdress.jpg\")
<\/figure>\n\n\n\nToilet Paper and Hospital Gowns<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Duraweave<\/em> <\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Brainstorm<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
The Mod Connection<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Ancient Eastern Culture<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Post-WWI<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
Mars of Ashville<\/em>, Andy Warhol, and JCPenney<\/em> <\/h2>\n\n\n\n