January 1996, Luna Park, Melbourne
After an early morning swim at St Kilda beach.
This strip is part of the series Photobooth 41 Year Project. You can see all the posts that document the series by clicking here.
This photomatic photobooth picture was offered for sale as an “old chauffeur’s badge” identity photo. It was said to be for a driver who “had to have their photo in their bus”.
Firstly it is not a badge. Like most photomatic photos there is a pop-out cardboard stand on the back, no pin. Hmm. Are bus drivers actually referred to as chauffeurs? Is this a bus driver’s uniform or a chauffeur’s uniform? Is it really a form of identification without a name or any other details attached?
Sure, the wear and tear suggests this picture may have been on display somewhere for an extended period, but there are many other explanations, other than the one proposed by the vendor. I have seen the same wear and tear on photos of lovers, rakes and dolly birds, pictures unlikely to have been used as ID.
This could have been a simple love token, made by a happy man for his lady. Maybe it was a spur of the moment purchase. Was it made when a booth presented itself unexpectedly, on taking a different route home one evening? Maybe it was a planned gift presented with a bunch of flowers? Or could it simply have been a personal souvenir to celebrate a first or last day at work? Whatever the case, given its condition, it was proudly displayed somewhere.
As with most of my photos, I’d say the circumstances behind this picture will remain unknown. The photo is thin, there is rust on the frame, the surface is battered, faded and dull. Yet one thing radiates as brightly as on the day it was taken – a glorious, broad-mouthed smile. I love it!
29 October 1995, Flinders Street Station, Melbourne
Taken after a performance of The Duchess of Malfi by Cheek By Jowl Theatre Company.
This strip is part of the series Photobooth 41 Year Project. You can see all the posts that document the series by clicking here.
May 1995, Hamilton, New Zealand
On any visit to NZ, visiting relations is my first priority. I stayed first with my Aunty Cecilie and Uncle Gregor in Hamilton where their magnificent hospitality was laid on, as usual. After a few days with them, for the first time in my life, I hired a car to go out and about on my own. Unable to sleep due to nerves and excitement, I took off at 2.30 am one morning to drive to Wanganui to see my mate, Moana. I only managed to complete the journey without an accident, due to three catnaps at various points along the way. Moana and I then did a week-long driving tour of the South Island. We then drove back up north, to Rotorua to meet up with Cecilie and Gregor, where we took advantage of the many thermal bath opportunities on offer. This visit was the last time I saw my Uncle Gregor, who had inspired my first international travel adventure. He died in May the following year.
I have been to New Zealand many times but this was the first, and so far only time, I ever found a photobooth machine there. Not my favourite type of booth, having only a single shot option, with a polaroid product, but to my mind better than nothing.This was taken in a store on Hamilton’s main shopping street on the 18th of May, 1995.
This is one of two gorgeous booth pictures from the family collection of my friend Del and her sister Jan. They both look very cute in their matching smiles, sundresses and crooked fringes. This picture was taken in the mid 1950s in the seaside resort town of Rhyl and probably came from a Cyril Astor photobooth located near the beach front. (I will tell you more about Cyril in my next post.)
Situated on the north east coast of Wales, Rhyl has long been a popular tourist destination for people all over Wales and North West England. In a recent email, Del said “Rhyl was the only place I thought was the seaside when I was a child. I didn’t know other places had beach and sea!” The family went there on a day trip at least once a year.
I love Jannies little fingers, resting on her sister’s shoulder, just poking out from behind Del’s hair. They were obviously good friends in childhood as they still are today.
22 April 1995, Flinders Street Station, Melbourne
Apart from the fact this photo was taken at Melbourne’s historical railway station, Flinders Street, on the above date at 5.15 pm there is no information written on the back. The occasion on which the photo was taken will thus remain a mystery.
This strip is part of the series Photobooth 41 Year Project. You can see all the posts that document the series by clicking here.
March 1995, Melbourne
At this time I was co-habitating with my man in a fabulous flat in Balaclava, still working part-time at a city gift shop and still making and selling hand-made cards part-time. I was thirty-three years old, happy and excited about life.
Glasses, although by now a necessity for the close work I was doing with my greeting card designs, were not a fashion priority. I got the cheapest frames available. Even in 1995, I cannot imagine these glasses were stylish. My only excuse for putting up with these ghastly lenses, apart from wanting to keep my money for more important things, like travelling, is that I never wore them outside of the house.
On the day I collected them from Chadstone Optical, I, of course, headed to a photobooth to record the momentous occasion of the beginning of my slow optical decline.
Tim is my much adored brother-in-law, a native Dubliner, husband to my sister, Sue, and father to Penelope (above) and Calvin. He is a sparky (electrician) and in all the recent economic troubles of Ireland, he has rarely, if ever, been without work. Why ? Timmy works hard, but better than that he gets on well with everyone and people enjoy having him around. He is a very likeable bloke, despite his desire to appear curmudgeonly. Like most Irish men (and women, now I come to think about it,) he loves a drink. Imbibing makes his, frequently incomprehensible, Irish accent, fluid, mellifluous, and colourful in a way that makes for many an amusing evening. Yes, Tim, when you are drunk you are funny – very, very funny.
Unlike most men I know, Timo’s first thought on coming home from work is to get out with the kids to play games. He doesn’t pause for a rest or cuppa. He adores his babies, and of course they adore him back. He cooks! Like me, he stirs the pasta with the same spoon as the sauce, which never fails to annoy my little sister. But hey, he cooks! (Or maybe that only happens when I am visiting them in Ireland? Lets wait for some comments from his sisters and wife to see…)
All up he is a top guy whose only failing is to have taken my sister so far away from Australia. I have almost forgiven him for that, due to him having given us Aussies beautiful Irish grandchildren/a nephew and a niece. Love ya Timmy! (And he says “Grrrumpf” back.)
In my post She Heard Her Broken Heart Would Heal in Time I mused about the possibility that the subject (above) may have been a man, not a woman. I had comments from people who thought “definitely” a man, another saying she looks like a cartoon, (yes, she does!) and that she is very androgenous etc.
I have since found for sale, from the same on-line merchant, more photos of the same subject. I am much closer to believing it is a lady but still not 100% sure. If it is a bloke, then he was very consistent in his depiction of his feminine persona. Any thoughts?
I quite often buy photos based on the title used by the seller. Of course the price has to be right and there needs to be something else that appeals; a look in the eye, a familiarity of features, a special item being worn or held. However, some of the more creative titles make imaginary theories about a person’s life spring so readily to mind, that it can be the deciding factor on whether to purchase or not.
This poor guy, listed under the title – THE MOST BORING MAN on THE PLANET! – got my sympathy. What was he trying to do? He looks completely unaware of the reason he got into the booth. Could it be that he didn’t realise that the flashes indicated the pictures were being taken? To me it looks as though he is still waiting for something to happen. Maybe he still is…
Photobooth Journal 