We Used To Get Photos Developed

I'm getting to the age where I'm telling "when I was your age" stories

When I ask someone to take a picture of me, I become a ball of insecurity. I’m unable to pose naturally because I’m busy thinking that my friend who I asked to take the photo is reevaluating their friendship with someone so shallow (me). My feelings are written all over my face:

“I’m sorry for asking for this photo.”

“I guess this outfit isn’t that cute.”

“I don’t know what to do with my arms.”

Ever since I saw this hilarious TikTok by Jake Cornell in 2021, it hasn’t left my brain. I have to admit it’s a sentiment I’ve felt since the dawn of social media.

Asking someone to take a photo feels humiliating.

Suggesting a group photo feels humiliating.

Being the person who always takes the multi-person selfie feels humiliating.

The most uncomfortable thing about having your photo taken, or taking a photo of someone else, is that you never know when it will end. I realize that if I asked for the picture, this predicament is my fault, and if I dislike the pictures and want more, it’s doubly my fault. All of this makes me get so “in my head” that I look awkward in the photos, so it takes longer to get a good photo, which makes me feel even more guilty.

It makes me think about the fact that before the age of smart phones, and even before the age of digital cameras, people couldn’t just take and delete photos as they pleased. There was a limit on the number of photos you could take. Photos were more special, because you had to decide something was worthy of a photo. You couldn’t look at the photos immediately after they were taken to check if your smile looked strained or your shirt was wrinkled. You just had to hope that the one or two photos you got were good. I mean, think of how few photos you see nowadays of people with their eyes closed, compared to how common it used to be.

Sometimes you’d say, “I wish I’d gotten a picture of [fill in the blank thing] but I didn’t.” We say this now too, but not nearly as often because our phones are at our fingertips and we have a ton of storage. Now, if I don’t get a picture of something, it feels like an extreme failing because surely I could have easily gotten one.

I yearn for the days when people used to go to the photo store to get their pictures developed. And sure, there are people who still do this. People who carry their film cameras to gallery openings and discuss the latest indie films while wearing pants that are somehow both ill-fitting and cool. But I’m talking about a time when everyone got their pictures developed. I can still imagine the smell of the photo store now.

There was a time when your mom would get the pictures developed and she’d get duplicates, and having two of each picture was an embarrassment of riches. Now I can hit “duplicate” a million times on a picture if I want to. I can crop it one way and then another, I can send it to as many people as I want, I can edit out my blemishes, and I can even add a filter. Not the real filters that you can place on a camera lens (was that how that worked?), but features that you can change the intensity of by sliding a little dot along a line on your screen. Features that have become the intellectual property of Instagram, Apple and other tech giants.

Even in the age of digital cameras, things were different than they are with smart phones. Sure, you could look back at the photos immediately, but you had limited space on your SIM card, so sometimes you’d delete a photo you didn’t like before taking another. You could of course share your pictures online, but it took more effort than it does now. There was a whole period of time when there was something called a “mobile upload” (a “mupload” for short) because we weren’t yet in today’s era where the vast majority of photos are, by default, mobile.

Perhaps I’m not remembering everything about the “olden” days clearly, but that’s precisely because we didn’t document everything. We allowed some memories to slip away, and we held onto the ones that stood out.

And yes, I’m the one who is constantly taking several pictures of everything and everyone I photograph, and asking others to do the same when they photograph me. But I miss the days when developing photos was a common practice, because I’d love to free myself of the mentality that I have to keep taking photos until I get the “perfect” one. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so awkward in pictures. Or maybe I would, but I wouldn’t care because I’d remember the importance of capturing a moment in time, with all its imperfections.

Photo credit for thumbnail image: Beyzaa Yurtkuran via Pexels