Now here’s something you don’t get to read every day, an account of being not-photographed by a famous photographer. I was sucked in from the first word–On Not Being Photographed by Diane Arbus:
In the gallery, I watch other people look at the photos and try to imagine my picture.
I am 15 years old. But do I look older? I thought I did. I am wearing heavy eyeliner and mascara, and my wavy hair is ironed to make it straight like the Beatles’ girlfriends. I have baby fat on my face, and next to me is my boyfriend. He has a full afro, dark skinned, with a gold tooth. He is 28 years old and probably high on cheap wine.
But that photograph wasn’t taken. And, even as I try to remember, I know there are many details that are lost.
myfanwy collins 