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Vintage Photobooth

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An enlargement of the photobooth photo is at the bottom of this post.

Here is another Parisian actor’s file card from the 50s or 60s for your perusal.

Poor Georges. He looks scary, right? He has a face and eyebrows made to play a supernatural villian, like Count Dracula or other type of ghoulish creature. He also has a name to play a bad guy. Bad-ass George Ass. Apart from having such a wonderful face, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a photobooth photo of someone so quirky, who also has a listing on the IMDb. Wow, a real actor for a change!  What? You didn’t think I bought the card solely due to his funny surname? Preposterous!

Unlike some of the other file records from this agency, there are a lot of details listed on the back of this card. (See below). He lived at 291, Rue St Denis in the 2e arrondissement of Paris. He was born on the 14th of September, 1909, making him between 45 and 55 years of age at the time this image was made. He had grey eyes and dark brown hair. He was long and slim at 174.5 centimetres tall, (5 feet 8.7 inches) and weighing only 65 kg. Even more perfect for a role as a vampire, I say. In addition to his native tongue, he spoke Russian (good for Cold War villian roles) and had some English. His sporting interest was cycling.

Poor Georges had some minor roles in film but the closest he got to getting a role that really suited him, was when he played a prisoner in Paris brûle-t-il? in 1966. Alas, from there it was downhill all the way. He was a priest at a funeral in Borsalino in 1970, which was definitely a sombre role and could be regarded as slightly macabre, I suppose.  He then played a deacon in Doucement les basses in 1971. A corrupt deacon, one hopes. He had an uncredited role as a man on Rue des Rosiers in Les Aventures de Rabbi Jacob in 1973. I like to imagine him breaking windows or vandalising something in that bit part. Unfortunately for Poor Georges, his next and final credit was as a seated man. We can only hope that he was a bad-ass seated man!

There are some other great photos in this series, so stay tuned to Photobooth Journal for more posts.

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Here we have two cheeky little misses. The booth chair being too low, makes them appear to be very, very small and almost pixie-like. Adding to that impression is the goofy gap-toothed smile on one and the cute freckles on the other.

With two similarly, badly cut fringes, (“Gee, thanks Ma!”), I would suggest they are sisters. But of course they could be best friends with a penchant for playing hairdresser with mummy’s dressmaking scissors.

This strip is from the USA and probably dates to the late 1960s or early 70s.

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When I was living in Guatemala, my companion and I boarded with a local family who took in travellers from all over the world. We met some fabulous people and some peculiar ones. We learned to be wary of a very odd young lady, who amongst other unusual habits, would offer her hand to recent arrivals and ask them to “sniff this”. It was invariably at breakfast time, after she had just emerged from her bedroom, so the offer was usually brusquely and firmly refused.

So has the gentleman with his bodgie hairstyle, (look it up, those of you who don’t come from Oz) proffered his hand for a good sniffing, or for a strangely ardent kiss? The photo is so funny and weird. What do you make of it?

The photo was from a Serbian seller, so I hope it is from Serbia. It was taken in Hagen, Germany, in December 1964.

(Update 19 August, 2016) My thanks to Peter from Documenting the Obvious for working out where this strip was taken.

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Someone has kept these two battered and dirty photobooth photos side by side for a long time, possibly in a purse or wallet. They found their way to a US flea market in unison, too.

With no information on the backs, these photos could have been taken anywhere, but the uniform of the soldier and the style of luxurious, tumbling curls of the young woman mark these as having been made at a particular time; WW2. There is a melancholy look to their smiles. Was it a wartime romance cut short by an imminent departure for duty, perhaps?

It is cute that they both blinked at the same time in the second image. It gives the impression that they are both meditating on their love, sending their thoughts to each other through their heads-together embrace. You can see the soldier’s hand at bottom right of each image, holding his girl tight. He never wanted to let her go.

I hope it wasn’t just the photos that remained together. Now that these photos are mine, I can guarantee, that at least in these two dimensions, they will never be parted.

 

 

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This is a very special post of photobooth photos from one of my blog readers, Sherri. I have tried to present this story mainly in Sherri’s own words.

“My love for photobooth images comes from those that I have of my mother.  She was killed in an auto accident when I was just 7 months old, so all I have of her are photos, no memories.  My favorite photos of her have always been the photobooth strips.  It may sound silly or strange, but I feel like they are the next best thing to having a memory of her.  In those strips, I feel like I can feel how she was feeling in the booth, trying out poses, smiling, laughing.

They are all attached to a page in my baby book. (See the full page, below). There are also booth photos of my maternal grandmother (who, by the way, is the person who raised me after my mother’s death).

I found a note in the baby book telling that the photos taken in July, 1967  in a Fort Wayne, Indiana KMart store.  The other booth images would also have been taken in Fort Wayne, Indiana, but I can’t be sure of the store.
 
My mother was Grace Charline (nee Henshaw) Sloan, born December 26, 1949 and died October 7, 1967.  My name is Sherri Lynn and I was born March 5, 1967.  My grandmother’s name was Mary Louis (nee Shenfeld) Didion, born February 6, 1925.”
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Sherri has a wonderful vintage photo blog The Rescued Photo, which I encourage you to visit. She meticulously researches the lives of the sitter/s from any scant detail she can glean from a scribbled name or note. Sherri’s philosophy about blogging is closely related to her feelings about her photobooth photos of her mother – that the story behind the images allow the person, or people in them, to live on.
 
Most unusually and unselfishly, Sherri will give the photos back to family members. However it is not always an easy process.
 

“I  hope that someday relatives will find my posts.  So far, I’ve only located one relative of a photograph but not one I’ve blogged about. They said they would love to have the photo and would send me their address, but they never did.  I followed up once and still didn’t hear back.  I noticed they’re using the photo in their ancestry family tree, so maybe the digital copy was enough for them.

I did find a home for the most recent photo I blogged – Orlo C Mathews and his brothers.  Orlo is the survivor of the Sultana maritime disaster. While researching him, I discovered a book he owned (about the Sultana) is housed in the Bedford Ohio Historical Society Museum.  I contacted them and they are excited to add the photo to the book.  Imagine how much more interesting it will be for people to be able to see a photo of the man who owned the book and survived the disaster!  I’m so thrilled with how that turned out!  I hope to have more of those moments!

Just like my blogging about photos I find, makes me feel like I’m helping the people in the images to live on, I feel like that’s what you will be doing for me by blogging the photos of my mother.

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HENSHAW Grace5_baby SLOAN Sherri 1967 Aug 11HENSHAW Grace4_baby SLOAN Sherri 1967 Aug 11
HENSHAW Grace3_baby SLOAN Sherri 1967 Aug 11HENSHAW Grace2_baby SLOAN Sherri 1967 Aug 11
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Sherri with her maternal grandmother, who raised her.

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The complete page from Sherri’s baby book.

A while ago I saw a truly, terrible rant by a blogger on WordPress who was outraged that people were liking their posts without actually reading them. They had a list of reasons to justify how they knew people were doing this.  They also had a long list of grievances against subscribers who treated their posts so shoddily.

So, here I am to say that I am guilty of this heinous offence. 

I sometimes struggle to get onto WordPress. When I do feel well enough and I see how many posts I have missed, I feel overwhelmed. I try to click into each post using the WP Reader, to at least get a sense of the publisher’s aim, or to look at the pictures, but frequently find even that too much for me. 

Quite apart from the fact I have a grand-sized excuse for my lethargy, (for those who don’t know, I have a degenerative condition called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome), I don’t understand why anyone would be upset at getting acknowledgement for their post, even if cursory.

I am very fond of the people who write the blogs I follow and want them to know I haven’t disappeared into the ether. A quick click on the like button lets them know I am still interested and still trying to stay in the loop. A quick check-in also helps to maintain my passion for publishing my own posts, when I am back to being able to sit up long enough to write them.

So, am I bad? Am I insulting you? Are you offended by the careering clicker? Let me know in the comments section, below.

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A favourite, foreign, friend of mine, forages frequently to find fabulous fotos for me. (And now I have exhausted my alliterative skills I will plough on with this post!)

I love most of the people in my photos but some people more than others. What a fabulous pair these two are. My friend’s hypothesis is that they are sisters. My theory is that they are mother and daughter. Their noses and lips closely resemble the other’s, which convinces me that they are, at the very least, related in some way.

Regardless of their relationship to each other, they have a very similar fashion sense. Their hats and lipstick shades seem almost identical. I love the very arty, large silver pendant and cat’s eye glasses worn by the older woman.The younger woman has a very appealing gap in her teeth and a faraway look in her eyes that reminds me of a young Marilyn Monroe.

Thanks to Ted for his love and dedication to the cause of photobooth photo rescue. I have more gems from him to show you soon.

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Catherine at 16

When I first introduced the photos above and below, in my post Sweet 16, I was unable to read the name that was written on the back of one of the photos. I received a lot of help identifying the sitter from reader’s comments. Ellis Tyd from How to Spot a Fraud was the first to give me her correct name, Catherine Nichepor. He also sent me a link, as did Mike from Mike’s Look at Life, to a blog where Catherine’s hand written recipes were being posted. This link also contained a lot of information about her history. John Crispin from John Crispin’s Notebook sent me a link to a US census of a Katherine Nichepor. It is definitely the same Catherine, despite her first name being spelt differently. I also received other links that were not quite as fruitful, but thank you to everyone for their help. I was thrilled with the response!

Here is some of Catherine’s story from the blog Yesterdish. Most of this information was taken from a scrapbook the author bought at a car boot sale.

Catherine was the daughter of Russian immigrants. In primary school, she went by the name Katrina Nichepor, then Cathern in middle school, finally settling on Catherine in high school. 

Her parents operated a general store. She graduated from Wyandotte High School in 1933, a year after her elder sister Sophie. Sophie and Catherine both grew up dancing, and danced together in festivals at their Russian Orthodox church.

In 1935 Catherine started her dancing career. She danced under her own name and occasionally under the name Kay Nichols. She kept a scrapbook with newspaper clippings of some of the shows in which she performed, including the Hit Parade of 1936 in an autographed photo she sent home to her sister.

 

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Catherine around 20 years old

 Catherine met her husband, Michael Carl Marian, in Detroit in 1936, when she was 21 and he was 32.

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Catherine in a dancing costume, aged 17

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A page from her scrapbook

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With her elder sister Sophie in dancing costume

The final image of Catherine is from Vintage Burlesque Photos. It is signed and dedicated to her sister, who at some point changed her name to Sonia.

I prefer the softer Catherine to the later fashionable, risqué Catherine. I wonder what her Russian Orthodox family thought of her move into burlesque theatre, the hard lines of her make-up and her provocative PR photos? I fear they wouldn’t have approved at all!

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I don’t know about you lot, but these are the most outrageous cat’s eye glasses I have ever seen! These sharply geometric, black-rimmed sunglasses are edged with different sized diamantés. They are bling with attitude. The young lady is also wearing a very cool, paisley variation, print dress. I imagine it to be coloured in purple and orange, making a fittingly groovy ensemble with the glasses. I love her cheeky smile!

Below is a second young woman wearing another fine pair of cool cat sunnies. Around her neck is a chain, on which hangs a gold or silver ring and she is posing as a fashion model of the time might have posed. You have style, girl!

These two photos came from the same online seller in the USA. Unfortunately the quality of the bottom image isn’t so good, but those fab frames deserved a place in this post. Both photos are undated, however I think they are both from the early 1960s

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This photo from France depicts possibly the oldest person I have yet found in a photobooth image. This sweet grandmotherly woman has a kindly look to her eyes. There is a serenity to her that I like very much.

Around her neck is a choker, on which hangs a framed photograph of a young man. I suppose it could be a young woman, but the lack of any visible adornment, such as a hat, jewellery or decorated collar, leads me to conclude that it is not. She is wearing a printed blouse and there is also what appears to be a brooch in the vee of her coat collar. She has an understated elegance that suggests to me that she was a woman of great style in her youth.

Assuming the choker is truly black, and not just a dark colour that appears black in a monochrome print, one can also assume her coat is black. Is she in mourning? I would say this photo was taken sometime in the 1930s. Is the young man a son who died in WW1? Maybe he is a long dead husband? At her advanced age, and in this era of higher mortality than today, she must have experienced death with a frequency that we cannot now imagine.

I feel that she has experienced life’s vicissitudes with magnanimity and a sense of adventure. What must she have thought about being ushered into a curtained, dark, tiny booth to be photographed by an invisible camera?

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