papier mache

In 1927, the “Buffalo Times” gave us an eyeroll in print over an igloo-shaped restaurant with papier-mache icicles, a merry-go-round restaurant with revolving tables, a “bullpen” restaurant with a live bull and waiters dressed as matadors.

One of the most famous involved Frank Morris, and brothers Clarence and John Anglin, who escaped in June 1962 by placing papier-mâché heads in their beds and breaking out through ventilation ducts.

Without fail, there is at least one big movie every year that falls prey to the adage “style over substance,” a film that postures as an opus, but is really just filled with hot air and covered in papier-mâché with the word “masterpiece” scrawled all over its still-drying surface.

Above us were giant papier-mâché heads of alebrijes — colorful Mexican folk art figurines — used at LA Librería’s recent appearance at the L.A.

Her first intervention was to style the windows, which she thought were boring, adding mannequins and whimsical objects like papier-mâché dogs.