Do you want to know why I hardly ever appear in photos? It’s not vanity, it’s not because I’m too old, fat, wrinkly or badly groomed to be seen in public, although those are factors, obviously. No, it’s mostly because of my husband.
He is most certainly, beyond any shadow of a doubt, the worst photographer in the world. Boo takes better photos than his Dad, he’s 6! He’s not only bad, he’s reluctant, he doesn’t care if we have no photos of anything, he’s just not interested. He is totally unable to tell if a picture is out of focus or not, doesn’t have any concept of framing and worse still, if he ever does break loose with a camera, he doesn’t care how unflattering those pictures will be. So the kids are going to grow up with nothing to remember me by and in 20 years time, when I’m in a nursing home, I’ll have nothing to show for being glamorous and youthful at 40 something, or even 30 something, we’ve been married ten years.
Inspired by the fabulously bad photography being shared over on Going Nomadic,( check out the worst ever travel photos series, it makes me laugh.) I bring you some of my husband’s best efforts at capturing his wife on film.
Christmas day, Vietnam, having a massage and a tuna sandwich in a bar in Saigon. It’s the only picture of me that Christmas, I think the ketchup bottles really make this one stand out, along with that, whatever it is, on the left, and the fact that he felt it necessary to stand over me to take it, just to make it the most unflattering angle possible.
He really liked that lead grey sky didn’t he! Must have, it takes up half the shot. Vietnam again, Hoi An, I’ve actually managed to crop that one to make it use-able for a mini post about coracles in Vietnam, I thought they were cool.
Can you see me? I’m down in the bottom left corner, I know the Himalayas are big and all that, but is this a picture of me trying to look like an intrepid mountaineering sort, or what? Am I just there for scale?
Here’s a similar one, actually, it’s not so bad, I’ve grown legs and feet and you get the intrepid Andean explorer feel a bit more here. Those fuzzy brownish things in the background are Llamas. He really likes portrait, it would seem.
This was a momentous moment, my first ever view of Sydney Harbour Bridge, skinny and newly arrived from India, so obviously I wouldn’t want my new size 8 legs and jeans in the picture, would I? And Nobody needs to see my face, the bridge is the star after all.
Lastly, we have the Australian outback. Vast expanses of nothingness, other than this main road, he was obviously loving the sky again that day and the dusty red earth. Yay, I love dusty red earth in a car park, best bit of dusty red earth I’ve ever seen.
The worst two ever, I just can’t share, me pregnant on the beach, in a bikini, IN FULL BODY PROFILE, Demi Moore, I am not, and the only shot I have of my newly born eldest son, and me, I don’t even want to go into details about the things he managed to include in that picture.
So there you have it, the reason you will see lots of pictures of the kids on my blog. There just aren’t any of me. Good job Boo is going to be able to take over photographic duties soon. When he’s seven.
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