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September 1992

September 1992, London

When this was taken, again in London, I was very busy with my three part-time jobs and still very much looking forward to my Central American adventure.  I must have taken this for a reason, as is the case with most of the previous photos I have posted.  The fact that there is only one left of the strip, confirms this, though I have no recollection of the use that was made of the others.  I was not yet in the full swing of collecting and taking photos just for fun. That frenzy was yet to come as will be seen in future posts…

Barbara Ann 1944

Two more photomatic photobooth photos of Barbara Ann Fremier.  The photomatic format, as far as I have been able to discover, was never available outside the USA.  If any one finds that I have misread the hand written name on the back of the picture, please let me know your interpretation and I will consider it and make changes.

Barbara Ann Fremier 1940s

One of my reasons for collecting found and vintage photos is the wonderful sense of melancholy and nostalgia they invoke.  Clothes, hair-styles, the many different photograph formats, stains and scuffs, all add to the otherworldliness of each image. Is it that this little girl, now dead or an old woman, is no longer loved and remembered? Were the photos discarded accidentally, perhaps carted away unseen at the bottom of a box of miscellaneous goods at a garage sale?  Perhaps it was just the poor condition and quality of the photos that caused their separation from the original owners?  Whatever the reality, to me they make up a beautiful wee story-book of possibilities.

16 July 1992

16 July 1992 No.2

July 1992, London

Whilst in my final months at the Crafts Council in Melbourne, I was lucky enough to be involved in organising a national craft-prize exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria. I enjoyed the experience so much that I started to consider the possibility of doing a course to further my qualifications and job prospects.  Once I realised I had more time in London than previously envisaged, I applied to the Tate Gallery, now known as Tate Britain, as a volunteer in the Registrar’s Department. I worked there 2 days per week for 5 months, concurrent with my job at Liberty.  I also applied for a position and was accepted to study for a Museum Studies diploma at the University of London for the 1993 academic year.

Although working at the Tate was a great experience where I had opportunities to get my hands on some extraordinary art works, visit St James Palace, (which is not open to the public) and delve into the sketch book archives of J.M.W. Turner, my time there made me reconsider whether I would enjoy a career in that field.  Still undecided close to my departure from the UK, I thought I’d keep my place on the course until I returned from my trip to Central America, in case I had second thoughts.

The photobooth pictures above were taken at Pimlico tube station near the Tate Gallery.

One day, earlier this year I received the above book in the post from the USA. In addition to collecting photobooth photos and ephemera, I also collect books about photobooth photos, of which there are a surprising number.  This one Photobooth Dogs by Cameron Woo was published in 2010.  Over the previous year or two, I had noticed in my online shopping adventures, that vintage booth photos that included a dog, were going for higher and higher prices. I fully expected to see one or two pups that I recognised in this book.

Having made myself a cup of tea, I settled down for a long peruse. There were some stunning snaps of dogs alone or with their owners, big and small, cooperative and not so cooperative but the photos that really grabbed my attention were of an unexpectedly familiar face.  There was My Femme Fatale in all her glory with a companion I hadn’t seen before; a fuzz-faced poodle. It had been some time since I had looked at my French collection, so before mentioning my discovery to anyone, I sought them out to confirm that it was indeed my lady.

And here she is forever immortalised in print – living on in the book, in my blog, in my collection and my imagination.

June 1992 London

Liberty of London Identity Card

June 1992, London

Prior to heading off to Central America, I had arranged to meet Moana in England, where she had been working for the previous 2 years. I was also very keen to catch up with the Holbrooks and the many friends I had made on my last visit to London.  What was supposed to be a one month visit, turned into 9 months by mutual agreement with Moana. Rather than eat into my savings, I decided to earn some money to support myself and make the most of what that wonderful city has to offer.

I started to sell my hand made cards around town. Among the numerous stores I successfully approached was Liberty in Regent Street.  I made three ranges of cards exclusively for them.  On one visit to deliver an order, I discovered they were looking for casual staff for a sale period, so made a successful application. After working as a temp for one month, I was offered a two day per week permanent part time position.

As you can see the booth photo was taken for my id-card for my temp job.

Rejected for International Driver's License

License, January 1992

January 1992, Melbourne

In January 1992 I had almost finished my two year contract at the Crafts Council and was preparing for my next trip.  I had done some driving lessons whilst living in London but failed my test as I was unable to reverse around a corner!  After about one month at my job as Promotions Officer I was told that part of my responsibilities was to visit regional centres to offer our support to their craft guilds.  I asked how I would get there when told I would be heading to a region with no public transport.  When they realised I had no drivers license and realised that they had not ascertained that fact at the interview, (it was not a prerequisite of the job and they didn’t ask), they also realised they were stuck with me.  They reluctantly paid for my driving lessons, some of which I did in their Toyota Hilux van.  Thus, on my next trip away from home, keen and excited to be a driver, I thought I might need an international license.  As it turned out it would be many years before I had the opportunity to drive outside Australia.

The first picture, I rejected, the second I found better, though why I found the nasty green tee-shirt acceptable for either photo is beyond me.  It is a measure of how easily one could find a photobooth in those days that I was able to get to two very different machines, within walking distance, on the same afternoon.


May 1991

Passport 1991

May 1991, Melbourne

Less than a year and a half back home and I was already planning another overseas adventure.  I had kept in touch with Moana, who had suggested we might go to Central America to study Spanish and continue our Latin American explorations.  I didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation. When this picture was taken I was living in Buckingham Street in Richmond with Sarah, a newly qualified solicitor and vibrant, bon vivant.  I spent many an hour monopolising the study in her house while developing and making new designs for my hobby greeting card business.

This May 1991 booth pic was for my passport in anticipation of the next journey.  Could my lipstick get any more intense?

London, September 1989

London, September 1989 No.2

September 1989, London

On my return to London, I was again living with the Holbrook family in West Norwood but this time my co-inhabitants were two friends made on my travels, New Zealanders, Moana and Neil. Helen and I had met them in Peru and walked the Inca trail with Moana.  We kept meeting up here and there with our last hoorah as a foursome, in Rio de Janeiro.  Not a couple, Moana and Neil were two of the funniest and most adorable people we met in South America.  As with Helen, Moana is still a good friend.  Her photos will feature in future posts.

Two photos from the same strip, taken late in 1989, in a tube station somewhere in London. With slightly more colour in my face than my usual palour, I was looking healthy and feeling very happy.

Helen in Quito - 1 June 1989

This is the portrait of Helen White that I loved so much.  I remember we laughed a lot at both of the images that resulted from our sitting at the Quito photography studio.  The re-touching seemed to have transported us to another era.  I found Helen’s delightful and yet somehow spooky, as if she had been morphed with a plastic doll.  I also loved my second, hair out, result.