Hipsters make me poor.

I’m really into crappy old cameras right now.  Why?  Why do I want crappy film when I have an awesome DSLR to shoot with?  Who the hell knows.  Why am I also into making paninis?  Why is my husband into rock climbing?  Why is my dog Barney really into meticulously cleaning his balls with his tongue 9 times a day?  It just is what it is… and right now what it is is me and weird old analog pieces.

Last summer I got a giant box of old analog cameras from some friends who were getting rid of everything they owned to go overseas.  Some of them didn’t work, some were even crappier than I was interested in, but some were great… including an old giant polaroid instant camera and one pack of film for it.

I LOVE the polaroid.  I love it’s mediocre quality.  I love sitting there for five minutes staring intently at it while it slowly develops.  I love shaking it because Andre 3000 told me to… hey ya!  What I don’t love?  The fact that the film is stupid expensive.  Craaaazy stupid expensive.

Damn you hipsters… driving up the price with your perfect example of supply and demand!

I didn’t use it at all for more than six months because the idea of using film that was that expensive made me want to wet my pants with fear, but told Kristen if we ever went on our epic adventure I’d use at least one picture for it and did.  Then today I was feeling squirrely and said “What the hell, I’ll take a polaroid.  That film isn’t going to last forever… I’ll just use one.  It will be fine.”  And took this picture of Verona wearing the pipe cleaner crown we’d made this morning.


Then, as the polaroid rush wore off, I thought “Oh I’ll just take one more.”


Then reasoned, “Well if I’m using the super expensive film and I’ll probably never be able to afford anymore in my life ever I may as well do a whole series with that damn little crown so I can frame the whole thing and hang it somewhere.”



And now I’m doing some deep breathing, trying to calm myself down over the fact that I just used $20-$25 worth of film in one afternoon.  I’m out of control… and being out of control feels kinda good.  (Insert evil laughter here.)


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