Nope, it's not recent. I've been 'exposed' (har har) to Polaroids my whole life. Here, we see my fetus being exposed to Polaroid rays in the womb, way back in 1970 on a beach in Florida. Lucky state.
Who knows what that does to a kid? Oh, besides making him addicted to Polaroid cameras 37 years later.
Our next shot was taken on December 25, 1973. That funny day we call Christmas. I'm not the girl. That means the one in the white shirt. Can't believe I'm, like, three. Seems like I should be smaller.
This is probably 1975 or 1976, with another cousin.
And Christmas must have been official Polaroid day, because here we are again in 1976. We totally played house with that plastic tree using woolly bears and spring peepers (look 'em up).
Not confined to peel-aparts, here are some integral shots. Not sure if they are SX-70 or 600. Probably 600. I think I remember something that looked like one of the Job Pro cameras. But I also remember the old rainbow-striped camera, so it may be a mix. I'm pretty sure that's a Boy Scouts shirt. Nope, not me...it's called Goodwill.
And a great shot of me as a vampire. Not for Halloween, I was just a vampire. My mom put Vaseline in my hair to slick it back. Really. Long story short, it doesn't wash out for a long time.
A few more peel-aparts of my goofy smile and one kick-ass shirt.You can see that it was all coater film. And, yes, I was cursed with a bowl cut for faaar too many years.
Ahhh, but, in 1977, I received my very own Polaroid camera! I believe it was a Super Shooter. Definitely a hard case. My very first Polaroid shot, while not exciting, is important, because they are the givers of the holy grail.
And, really, how 'sign of the times' is that shot? So, I went on to shoot nonsense photos until I used up probably the two film packs I owned. And, being 7 or 8, I certainly couldn't afford more Polaroid film. So that was about it.
Obviously all the important things in my life at the time. My cat, gerbils, stuffed bunny rabbits and cute friend. Sigh. Anyway, that was pretty much the end of my modeling career in Polaroid film. Uh oh...wait. Look at this. The story continues, via the magic of 'paying for Polaroids of embarrassing situations'. Dude, seriously, what's with the really bad buzz cut? That works so much better today now that my hair doesn't look like a monkey's ass.
Actually, more like Eddie Munster. And sitting on Santa's lap at like 16 or 17? Why even ask questions like that. Just look at that Santa face. Classic.
This one looks like a mullet, but it's actually post-mohawk, pre-halfway down my back. 19th birthday here at some Teppanyaki place with x-gf of many, many years ago.
And one last idiot shot. The guy in the bunny suit, not me. It's kind of random, but not. I knew the guy, some radio DJ that I worked with at his second job. So a few years later, there he was dressed like that in a sports clothing store. Worth the 3 bucks for the shot. Definitely a Spectra shot, maybe my only, ever! Need to pick one up someday, as the film can be found for cheap.
Anyway, that's what happens. Like a grain of sand under your fingernail, it sits there, you know it's there, you can't get rid of the feeling. The sensation grows and grows until BAM! one day you have a box with 500+ Polaroids. Bad analogy, but it's bedtime. Just having a little fun with this post! Call me, I'm available for portraits. Of me. Burt Reynolds style. Minus all the extra hair. You know what I'm talking about.