This Holga got me pregnant

Jeg lar noen andre skrive innlegget denne gangen. Dette er produktbeskrivelsen i en random eBay-annonse

I moved to Melbourne in 2005 when I finished high school – I’d never had much of an inclination to take photos like most teenages do. For some reason, moving to a new city where I knew no-one and I had to be my own institutional memory, suddenly made having a camera make sense. If I didn’t have anybody else to share significant moments with, then maybe I’d stamp the moment on a piece of light-sensitive paper to later laugh or cry over with my future self.

So anyway, I had read about these Holga camera’s by some company called Lomography (something about remaking a 1970’s plastic Japanese model of an old war-time Soviet camera.. I can’t remember, apparently I didn’t ascribe much brain real estate to this particular story), that supposedly harnessed the power of ‘plastic piece of crap’ to produce really great vintage looking photos. ‘Insta-age’, if you will.

I found out a store on Brunswick Street was selling them, so off I went with the asking price of $120 and a pocketful of dreams.

I found the camera – I also found the store attendant.

Over muchos blushing and the light touching of skin on skin as the camera exchanged hands – ‘Store Attendant’ (no names shall be mentioned) asked me out on a date.

On first date we went to dinner at Pellegrini’s and laughed at the old italian men behind the cover of our spagetti. On second date, we watched the sunset from the steps of the Memorial and toasted the night with a $7 bottle of wine. For the third date he surprised me with a first edition copy of my favourite book, ‘Love in the Time of Cholera’ by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. So then, in the course of things, without ever really making a decision one way or another, fate would have it that we fell in love, shared our lives and eventually a home – two more creatures, dizzy with love.

Three weeks ago I found out both that I’m pregnant, and that he’s been sleeping with our neighbour – so I’m selling everything the fucker ever touched so I can buy a one way ticket out of this hellhole.

Love doesn’t exist.

Jeg lurer på om det ble noen gode bilder utav dette…


  1. Oi, historien var vel så fargerik som du fortalte! 🙂
    Vurderer du fortsatt å høre om hun sender til Norge? Det hadde jo vært gøy å ha noe med en slik fargerik fortid. – siden du tross alt allerede samler, mener jeg.

    ~ Frida

  2. Dear gretaolivier,


    Sorry to hear your story. The camera is probably cursed by now, but I would like to make a bid on it anyway if you could ship it to Norway in Europe. What would be the p&p?

    – carlf89

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