Adhesive Tape

Before I existed, the world was a slightly messier, less connected place. Things that ripped often stayed ripped, and lines that were meant to be crisp were often blurry. My story begins not in a quiet laboratory, but in the noisy, vibrant world of a 1920s auto body shop. Imagine the sounds of clanging metal and hissing paint sprayers. The air smelled of fresh paint and polish. Back then, two-tone cars were the height of fashion, with one color on the top half and another on the bottom. But creating that perfectly straight line between the colors was a nightmare for painters. They would try to cover one section with heavy butcher paper and glue, but when they peeled it off, it often took chunks of fresh paint with it, or the glue would leave a sticky, stubborn residue. It was a frustrating, time-consuming process. One day, a young, observant engineer from a company called the Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing Company, or 3M, was visiting the shop. His name was Richard Drew, and he watched the painters struggle. He saw their sighs of frustration and heard their muttered complaints. He felt their disappointment when a beautiful paint job was ruined. A thought sparked in his mind: there had to be a better, cleaner, and simpler way to help them. That small moment of empathy was the beginning of me.

My first attempt at life, in 1925, was not exactly a success story. Richard Drew, trying to be economical, created a two-inch-wide strip of tan paper. However, he applied a very light adhesive only along my very edges, thinking it would be enough to hold me in place without being too sticky. He was proud of his creation and brought it to the auto body shop, believing he had solved their problem. The painters were eager to try me. They carefully pressed my edges down along the line they wanted to paint. But when they started spraying, I couldn't hold on. I buckled and paint seeped underneath my non-sticky middle, blurring the crisp line they worked so hard to achieve. One frustrated painter ripped me off the car and supposedly exclaimed, 'Take this tape back to those Scotch bosses of yours and tell them to put more adhesive on it!'. In those days, 'Scotch' was a slang term used to mean 'cheap' or 'stingy'. The nickname stuck, and I was embarrassingly known as 'Scotch' tape. It was a failure, a clear sign that a good idea needs the right execution. But for Richard, this failure wasn't an end. It was a crucial piece of feedback, a lesson that would ultimately lead to my success. He learned that cutting corners, even with the best intentions, rarely works out.

Richard Drew was not someone who gave up easily. That frustrating nickname echoed in his ears, not as an insult, but as a challenge. He took me, his failed creation, back to the 3M lab, determined to get it just right. For the next two years, from 1925 to 1927, he dedicated himself to my improvement. He experimented tirelessly, a true scientist at work. He tested countless types of paper, searching for one that was strong enough to handle paint but delicate enough not to damage a fresh coat. He mixed and remixed different adhesive formulas, trying to find the perfect balance of stickiness. It needed to hold firm against wet paint but also peel away cleanly without leaving a single trace of residue. There were many failed attempts, many batches that were too sticky or not sticky enough. Each failure was a step forward, teaching him what didn't work. Finally, he developed a crepe paper backing that was pliable and a new, pressure-sensitive adhesive that covered me from edge to edge. He had created the world’s first masking tape. When he returned to the auto shop, the painters were skeptical, but they gave me a try. The result was magic. I held a perfect seal. The paint lines were razor-sharp. And when they were done, I peeled off flawlessly. The painters cheered. Their work was suddenly easier, faster, and more precise.

My life as a painter’s assistant was fulfilling, but my destiny was much bigger. A few years later, the world changed dramatically with the start of the Great Depression in 1929. It was a difficult time when money was scarce, and people couldn't afford to simply replace things that broke. The motto of the era became 'use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without'. Around this same time, a company named DuPont had invented a fascinating new material called cellophane. It was one of the first plastics, and it was completely transparent and waterproof. Richard Drew, ever the innovator, saw a connection between the needs of the people and this new material. He envisioned a tape that could mend, not just mask. A tape that was invisible, allowing people to discreetly repair torn book pages, seal food packages to keep them fresh, or fix a child’s broken toy. He spent another year experimenting, figuring out how to apply a clear adhesive to the clear cellophane without compromising its transparency. On September 8th, 1930, I was born again, this time as a clear, see-through version of myself: Scotch Brand Cellophane Tape. I was an immediate sensation. In a time of hardship, I was a small tool of empowerment, helping families hold their world together, one little strip at a time.

From that auto body shop in the 1920s and the households of the 1930s, my journey has been incredible. I went from being a painter’s helper to a household name. Look around you, and you will likely find me somewhere nearby—in a desk drawer at school, in a crafting bin at home, or on a counter in an office. I wrap birthday presents, hang artwork on refrigerators, and help with science fair projects. My uses have grown in ways Richard Drew could never have imagined. I have even traveled to space with astronauts, helping with essential repairs aboard spacecraft where every tool must be versatile and reliable. My story is a testament to the power of observation, perseverance, and adapting an idea to meet a new need. It all started because one person saw a problem and refused to give up, even after a frustrating failure. A simple idea, born from a desire to help, can stick around for generations, changing the world in millions of small, simple, and incredibly useful ways.