Callow Youth

As I said before, I just regained posession of some of my more ancient photies...

and such an eye-opener.

Jesus H on a bike, did I ever really look this young?

This was taken around '92, when a mere chap, a couple of years my junior, Dave Cantwell, taught me all I ever needed to know about portrait photography.

We had, in those days, the run of a professional studio, so could quite easily lose the run of ourselves. So we did. Dave was always very ambitious (and is now one of Irelands top pros). Gullible, tho, especially then, and thats how I got him, instead of me, to shoot the Childs Aunts Wedding.

There is only so much shit one man can take....

There was also the Birth/Labour Photography Scam, which is a story for another day.........

At the time this portrait was taken, I cant remember who I was going out with ( but, other contemperaneous photos provide clues...), I'm not quite sure where I was living, or what my beer of choice was....

But I do remember shopping for the hat (£24.99 in the Hat Sop, funnily enough, in the St Stephens Green S.C.).

I remember where I bought the duster (a flea market in Georges St)

I remember the brand of ciggies I smoked then (Rothmans- fuck me, fibre-glass in a combustible tube)

I remember that, as planned, that Dave, as photographer, won £500 for Portrait of the Year, as sponsored by Fuji.

I remember that I didnt get a fucking penny of it, as Dave was, and still is, a penny-pinching Navan bollix who spent it all on buying two new suits, one purple, one lime green) (It was the 90's, OK?)

But I have this little slice of personal history, to remind me of a time when I was young and bulletproof, immune to the vagaries of middle age and self doubt and sheer shrieking mortal fear.

I might stick this one in the attic, eh, Oscar?