Disposable cameras are back, baby
And you should all get involved
Here’s a hot tip: go and get yourself a disposable camera.
Okay, yeah, it’s not life changing, but it will provide you with some moments of absolute delight — and isn’t that the reason why we’re all here? For the joy of it all?
Anyway, let’s take a tiddly little leap back and talk about how I got to this point.
Photography is in a strange place. Yes, the modern smartphone is an absolute marvel and if you truly experienced its wonder in an untethered way you’d go mad with elation. The fact we can easily capture an effectively unlimited amount of photos whenever we want is magical, yet there’s a downside: pictures no longer feel special.
Their value has diminished because they’re so available.
In the days of film photography, the limited number of pictures you could take made them rare, something to be cherished.
I’m not saying smartphones suck, or even that I’d like photography to be scarcer. More that I hunger for a middle ground, a way of making pictures more valuable without being a hassle — and this is where disposable cameras come in.
As you can guess, disposable cameras aren’t a new thing. The first camera of this type was released way back in 1949, but it wasn’t until Fujifilm released the QuickSnap line in 1986 that the hardware became widespread.
Ah, the 90s. I remember having a disposable camera on holiday, joyfully snapping away, and feeling all cool and mature. Since the advent of digital cameras, though, I hadn’t touched one of the throwaway kinds.
What I have done though is try and find ways to engage with analogue photography. I didn’t want to spend thousands on cameras and get incredibly technical, so I veered towards instant photography, and specifically the Fujifilm Instax range.
While I enjoyed this in the short term — who doesn’t love seeing a picture develop straight out of the camera? — I eventually stopped taking instant cameras out with me. They were too expensive and large for me to comfortably carry around if I was jaunting about.
I’d effectively given up on having a type of photography that was easy, fun, meaningful, and affordable.
But then, and you know there has to be a “but then,” one of my friends went on a trip to Japan and shared some photos he took with a disposable camera. I was immediately enamoured. What an idea.
When I had a trip to Newcastle planned for the Great North Run, I picked up a disposable camera to give it a try. And, god, I’m glad I did.
I now pretty much always have a disposable camera on me. Because it’s relatively cheap, small enough to slip into a pocket, you can carry it wherever you want without fear of it getting broken.
The photos aren’t technically amazing, they’re not gonna win any awards, but they’re still beautiful, their imperfections all part of the allure.
More than that though, a disposable camera balances the value of pictures again. As you carry it, you’re constantly considering what moments to capture and, because you have a limited amount of shots, you select them carefully.
A smartphone has the opposite problem. Because you can take as many photos as you want, people often end up not actually taking any. A sort of possibility paralysis, if you will.
Then there’s the joy of surprise with disposable cameras.
Again, smartphones are amazing and I wouldn’t want them to disappear, but taking a photo and seeing it immediately has become so normal it doesn’t feel special. But with a disposable camera, you pretty much forget what you’ve photographed, and end up astonished at all the moments you forget when the film is finally developed.
This is a microcosm of the core element of getting back into the hardware: joy. Disposable cameras are unadulterated fun. There’s no technical wizardry, no worry about taking a perfect shot, it’s a point-and-click way of documenting your life.
Disposable cameras are back, baby. All aboard.