Sellersville woman turns unwanted apparel into dress-rehab business
By Samantha Melamed
The Philadelphia Inquirer, August 11, 2010
With its puffy shoulders and unflattering bulges, its awkward, calf-length skirt, and one-size-fits-none bodice, there's no piece of clothing so widely reviled as the bridesmaid's dress.
And what could be worse than one such garment? Nine of them, says Nicole Kulp.
That's how many times the 33-year-old Sellersville resident has done the deed. "When you get to a certain age, you feel like that's all you do - go to weddings."
Yet it only took two bridesmaid's dresses to inspire Kulp to fight back against the current of pastel polyester. She shortened a hemline, added a lace overlay, and encircled her waist with a sash. And with that, she had a new dress - and the business model for her company, Recycle My Dress.
Since 2006, Kulp has updated and transformed hundreds of prom gowns, bridesmaid's dresses, bridal gowns, and vintage finds. Her clients include women looking to make family heirlooms wearable again, cost-conscious shoppers, and environmentally aware fashionistas mindful of synthetic fabric's epic half-life.
Certainly, recycling a bridesmaid's dress may not save the world. But if it can make lemonade out of frilly lemon-yellow taffeta, it just might save a few friendships.
"They're so excited when they get their dresses," said Kulp, "especially when something's hanging in their closet, and they're sure that they're never going to wear it again. They're stoked that the $200 they sank into their bridesmaid's dress isn't totally wasted."
Kulp learned to sew at age 10 - her grandmother worked for Singer - and had been altering her own clothing for years. But that revamped bridesmaid's dress, which she wore to yet another wedding, drew enough compliments to get her thinking.
"A lot of people liked it and asked me where I got it, and I told them I made it from a bridesmaid's dress that I had just hanging in my closet," she said.
Soon, word spread to friends, and friends of friends, and orders came rolling in.
That first year, Kulp overhauled about 20 dresses. Now, in between her full-time job as an office manager at an acupuncture clinic, she works on 10 to 15 dresses per month. In her spare time, she shops for vintage and used dresses, which she alters and sells on Etsy.com for $20 to $200 apiece.
In that time, Kulp has developed an arsenal of tricks: She shortens skirts, dyes fabric, creates straps, sews on sashes, and even hand-paints patterns. Prices for the makeovers, via Etsy or her website, RecycleMyDress.com, average about $50, but depend on the extent of the transformation.
If all goes well, the finished dress is unrecognizable.
"My sister's bridesmaid's dress was blue; I dyed it crimson and put a black sash on it. It was a lot shorter and sharper," Kulp said. "She was like, 'That was from that blue dress I made you wear?' "
For Jasmine Foreman, 28, of Bethlehem, Kulp's "up-cycling" service is providing the chance to use something she never thought she could: her mother's wedding dress.
"It's a very '70s-style, hippie dress in plain cotton. It has beautiful cutout lace details, but it has long sleeves and it looks very old-fashioned," said Foreman, whose wedding is planned for May.
Kulp is removing the sleeves, dyeing the gown a tea color to conceal water damage, and shortening it to cocktail length while preserving the detail at the hemline, all so Foreman can wear the dress to her rehearsal dinner.
"My mother's very excited. And it's really special for me too, because I wouldn't wear it as my wedding dress, but I love that I'm still able to wear it as part of my wedding," Foreman said. And at less than $100, "It's definitely the cheapest thing in my wedding, but it's very sentimental."
In other cases, the sentiment isn't nearly so sweet.
Erin Magarity, 27, of Chalfont had spotted a friend in one of Kulp's 1950s-style creations, and hoped she could salvage "a horrible, champagne-colored bridesmaid's dress" that, frankly, she was annoyed about buying (for $250!) in the first place.
"I was actually going to throw it out," she said. Instead, Kulp transformed the hated dress into one of Magarity's favorites, with a full, crinoline-lined black skirt and halter straps.
In today's culture of disposable merchandise, "I wouldn't have even known to think of trying to find someone to fix this dress," Magarity said.
Current interest in environmentalism has made rehabbed clothing itself fashionable.
"There's been a huge resurgence of vintage," said Lara Long, who has operated Plaid Pony Vintage in Northern Liberties for six years. More selective boutiques, such as Long's online shop, regularly tweak items to current tastes.
"A lot of vintage dresses come to the calf, which is not always the most flattering," she said. "So I hem them, to make them from dowdy dresses into cute scooter dresses."
Plus, these dresses "all have really good bones," said Kulp, who tries to build her recycled items to last. "It's not a Forever 21 dress. . . . It's a lot more sustainable."
Elizabeth Curry, 27, of Chalfont, stopped by Kulp's home studio on a recent morning to have a floor-length bridesmaid's dress (from her best friend's wedding) transformed into cocktail attire to wear on her honeymoon cruise. Before she met Kulp, she said, her bridesmaid's dresses were usually destined to languish in the back of the closet - or to become Halloween costumes for her younger sisters.
The tailoring service also eased her guilt over her own wedding plans for this November: Impracticality aside, she is asking her bridesmaids to wear floor-length gowns in a deep shade of purple.
"I'm making sure all my bridesmaids know about [Recycle My Dress], so they can wear their dresses again," Curry said.
And what could be worse than one such garment? Nine of them, says Nicole Kulp.
That's how many times the 33-year-old Sellersville resident has done the deed. "When you get to a certain age, you feel like that's all you do - go to weddings."
Yet it only took two bridesmaid's dresses to inspire Kulp to fight back against the current of pastel polyester. She shortened a hemline, added a lace overlay, and encircled her waist with a sash. And with that, she had a new dress - and the business model for her company, Recycle My Dress.
Since 2006, Kulp has updated and transformed hundreds of prom gowns, bridesmaid's dresses, bridal gowns, and vintage finds. Her clients include women looking to make family heirlooms wearable again, cost-conscious shoppers, and environmentally aware fashionistas mindful of synthetic fabric's epic half-life.
Certainly, recycling a bridesmaid's dress may not save the world. But if it can make lemonade out of frilly lemon-yellow taffeta, it just might save a few friendships.
"They're so excited when they get their dresses," said Kulp, "especially when something's hanging in their closet, and they're sure that they're never going to wear it again. They're stoked that the $200 they sank into their bridesmaid's dress isn't totally wasted."
Kulp learned to sew at age 10 - her grandmother worked for Singer - and had been altering her own clothing for years. But that revamped bridesmaid's dress, which she wore to yet another wedding, drew enough compliments to get her thinking.
"A lot of people liked it and asked me where I got it, and I told them I made it from a bridesmaid's dress that I had just hanging in my closet," she said.
Soon, word spread to friends, and friends of friends, and orders came rolling in.
That first year, Kulp overhauled about 20 dresses. Now, in between her full-time job as an office manager at an acupuncture clinic, she works on 10 to 15 dresses per month. In her spare time, she shops for vintage and used dresses, which she alters and sells on Etsy.com for $20 to $200 apiece.
In that time, Kulp has developed an arsenal of tricks: She shortens skirts, dyes fabric, creates straps, sews on sashes, and even hand-paints patterns. Prices for the makeovers, via Etsy or her website, RecycleMyDress.com, average about $50, but depend on the extent of the transformation.
If all goes well, the finished dress is unrecognizable.
"My sister's bridesmaid's dress was blue; I dyed it crimson and put a black sash on it. It was a lot shorter and sharper," Kulp said. "She was like, 'That was from that blue dress I made you wear?' "
For Jasmine Foreman, 28, of Bethlehem, Kulp's "up-cycling" service is providing the chance to use something she never thought she could: her mother's wedding dress.
"It's a very '70s-style, hippie dress in plain cotton. It has beautiful cutout lace details, but it has long sleeves and it looks very old-fashioned," said Foreman, whose wedding is planned for May.
Kulp is removing the sleeves, dyeing the gown a tea color to conceal water damage, and shortening it to cocktail length while preserving the detail at the hemline, all so Foreman can wear the dress to her rehearsal dinner.
"My mother's very excited. And it's really special for me too, because I wouldn't wear it as my wedding dress, but I love that I'm still able to wear it as part of my wedding," Foreman said. And at less than $100, "It's definitely the cheapest thing in my wedding, but it's very sentimental."
In other cases, the sentiment isn't nearly so sweet.
Erin Magarity, 27, of Chalfont had spotted a friend in one of Kulp's 1950s-style creations, and hoped she could salvage "a horrible, champagne-colored bridesmaid's dress" that, frankly, she was annoyed about buying (for $250!) in the first place.
"I was actually going to throw it out," she said. Instead, Kulp transformed the hated dress into one of Magarity's favorites, with a full, crinoline-lined black skirt and halter straps.
In today's culture of disposable merchandise, "I wouldn't have even known to think of trying to find someone to fix this dress," Magarity said.
Current interest in environmentalism has made rehabbed clothing itself fashionable.
"There's been a huge resurgence of vintage," said Lara Long, who has operated Plaid Pony Vintage in Northern Liberties for six years. More selective boutiques, such as Long's online shop, regularly tweak items to current tastes.
"A lot of vintage dresses come to the calf, which is not always the most flattering," she said. "So I hem them, to make them from dowdy dresses into cute scooter dresses."
Plus, these dresses "all have really good bones," said Kulp, who tries to build her recycled items to last. "It's not a Forever 21 dress. . . . It's a lot more sustainable."
Elizabeth Curry, 27, of Chalfont, stopped by Kulp's home studio on a recent morning to have a floor-length bridesmaid's dress (from her best friend's wedding) transformed into cocktail attire to wear on her honeymoon cruise. Before she met Kulp, she said, her bridesmaid's dresses were usually destined to languish in the back of the closet - or to become Halloween costumes for her younger sisters.
The tailoring service also eased her guilt over her own wedding plans for this November: Impracticality aside, she is asking her bridesmaids to wear floor-length gowns in a deep shade of purple.
"I'm making sure all my bridesmaids know about [Recycle My Dress], so they can wear their dresses again," Curry said.