Confessions · People · Photography


If you haven’t noticed, you will soon. I have a new obsession: i.e. Up-close portraits.

The closer upper the better.

It’s happened recently. Possibly because my camera’s lens is really only a portrait lens. Possibly because I get huge delight out of capturing weird, funny facial expressions, and then laughing like The Count from Seaseme Street when I’m begged to delete said weird and funny photos.

Either way, I’ve developed a fascination for cheek bones and nostril hairs.

The longer the better.


Just kidding.

Although if you happen to have long nostril hairs, I’d be keen to snap ’em.


Two weeks ago, I was holidaying in New Zealand at a church Christmas camp. I had the opportunity to unleash my photography fetish on unsuspecting friends.

This is Major Mick.

He was a Major back in his army days.

He’s a real top notch bloke.


This is Dylan with his awesome Elmo beanie.

If you knew Dylan, you’d know exactly why he wears an Elmo beanie and why it suits him to a T.

I spent six hours squashed in the back of a car with Dylan, driving from Christchurch to Dunedin after the camp.

We became great Squish Buddies.


I love it when people get into the spirit of posing.

It makes a picture say a thousand more words than usual.


Get it?

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Okay. Never mind.


Kids are the easiest to photograph.

They don’t duck their heads and put their hand in front of your camera.

They don’t want to see the shots you took, and then make you solemnly swear to erase the ‘bad’ photo you just took of them.

Nope, kids just stand there and pose away.


At camp, for New Year’s Eve, we had a dress-up night with the theme ‘The Sea’.

Ali went as Jesus Walking on Water.

I can’t say I know if Jesus was a ginger, complete with red beard, but last New Year’s Eve, Ali sure was.


This is the Munchkin sticking his head through the Boss’ bee box frames.

Just in case you weren’t sure.


I don’t know how long my portrait craze will go for. To predict that would be to predict the next time a bird poops on my sister’s head (and I can’t tell you that cos it’s in next week’s post).

What I know for sure is, in the circumstances when I hand my camera to a kid at a camp, in New Zealand, while holidaying there…


…I can’t be accountable for my actions afterward.

There’s nothing you can do when weird is in the veins.

xx Trouser Girl

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