reading elizabeth’s poignant, but as always, hilarious, post about the experience of getting a portrait with her brother max, got me thinking about the institution of the ‘school photo’. schools in new zealand were not exempt from this practice either. i remember having my hair in a tight french braid, lining up dutifully for 2 seconds of fame in front of some disillusioned photographer.
getting ready for class photos was my version of kid hell. we’d have to stand shortest to tallest, and it was never a surprise that i always kicked off that merry line of shame. (to this day, i blame my early penchant for tea for my height [or lack of] since caffeine supposedly stunts growth).
my parents would always buy the packets of photos, probably out of a sense of obligation, and so i have every year captured. teeth making their way through. awkward haircuts. the day i wore a bulky cableknit handmade forest green cardigan with yellow buttons while everyone else had purchased their sleek uniforms from an actual store.
anyway, if i was to ever be a school photographer, i’d insist that there was a theme each year. and with that i present you, my kind of school photo.