My fiancé is always teasing me about my diminutive height (I am a paltry 5'3 to his statuesque 6'6), so I don't think it ever occurred to him that I could possibly get any smaller. It was his birthday yesterday, and I came across a novel way of surprising him: with a miniature model of me! I had heard about my3Dtwin (http://www.levavo.com/my3dtwin) through one of my best friends, Sophie, who was planning to get a 15cm model of herself made to put on her parents' mantelpiece now that she has left home. I was intrigued, and excited; in addition to his joking jibes about my size, my fiancé is uncannily gifted at guessing gifts. He has correctly conjectured the contents of most of the presents I have given him over the past five years, and takes gleeful delight in his spot-on divinations. One of the only occasions on which I managed to fox him was when I took photographs of the intersection of Gerald Road and Elizabeth Street (our names!) in Belgravia, and framed them. He was totally taken aback - he had no idea that the two roads existed, let alone the fact that they transected. After that triumph, however, I have really struggled to find an original, unanticipated present.
So, in search of this elusive gift, I booked my appointment with my3dtwin to make a tiny version of myself. One Sunday afternoon I schlepped over to Shoreditch to meet the founder-owners of Levavo, the company that produces my3dtwin and to have my micro clone made. The concept is the brainchild of 32-year old Marcin Piosik, a former computer engineer, who specialised in architectural scanning, producing 3D models of buildings. It occurred to him that the technology could be applied in an alternative context: "I thought, why not scan people, too, and then produce replicas of them," he says. Marcin spent four years honing his idea with his business partner, Tom Krok. Marcin was certain the concept would take off: "people are bored of photos," he declares. A figurine is a natural progression - a tangible way of capturing oneself.
Tom Krok (far left) Marcin Piosik (second from left), founder and owner of Levavo, in miniature form. |
I love the fact that the result is virtually instantaneous: anyone can walk into Levavo's shop on Leyden street and have a mini-reproduction of themselves that promises total verisimilitude in under seven days. My model is going to make a great present for my fiancé, but there's a whole host of reasons why you might want to get one made. Marcin told me that the idea has been highly popular with businessmen and women (many have had them made for their kids to play with a mini mummy or daddy in their absence on business trips or long hours at the office). Marcin also showed me a model of a man in a wet suit with a mono waterski (he wanted to be reminded of his favourite hobby), and a pregnant lady, who plans to return for another model when her baby is born. The models are also extremely popular with proud parents who want to immortalise their cherubic infants at their most cute.
My cloning experience takes place in the basement studio - a bright white room crammed full of Canon cameras - 85 at the last count (this number is increasing gradually - the more cameras, the greater the accuracy). I was advised to steer clear of wearing head-to-toe black, but apart from that, there are no real clothing guidelines - I picked my favourite frock du jour, a black and white number from Karen Millen and a pair of Louboutins. Marcin positions me on a small square in the centre of the room and asks me to strike a pose. When I'm ready, the cameras take my picture simultaneously; it's so quick. Marcin then leads me next door to check that I'm happy with the resultant images (all 85 of them), which have appeared on his screen. How on earth do these images transmute into a model? Marcin explains that a technique based on photogrammetry is use to extract the measurements from the photos and to create a 3D model, and the figurine is subsequently printed with a state-of-the-art 3D printer than can create 390,000 colours.
Mini me: a 20cm my3Dtwin version of myself. |
A week later a box arrives, marked fragile. I am skittish with excitement. I tear open the box, peel open the bubble wrap gingerly, and come face-to-face with myself! I am delighted, and slightly awestruck: I am so unused to seeing myself from all angles, and it is quite a shock. Every detail is preserved, down to the last toenail and strand of hair.
Me, and mini-me. |
Gerald, my fiance, with his even tinier than usual version of me. |
Visit http://www.levavo.com/my3dtwin to book your my3Dtwin experience.