When Jan (not her real name) at the passport office took my new passport photo, I wasn’t expecting anything high end. I knew the minute she pulled out the point and shoot with the tiny flash and mumbled something about standing on a line that this wasn’t going to be good.
Jan was a no nonsense kind of girl and wasn’t going to waste time on pleasantries like “hello” or “how are you?” If it was up to me, my new passport photo would have been lit with seven big soft lights much like Oprah has, and my focal length of choice would have been 200mm.
In my head I was hoping for Vogue, the reality was more like vague or vagrant.
Jan had impeccable timing. She managed to take the image at the exact moment I’d scrunched my face in confusion at her mumbled instructions.
I believe that all the Jans of the world who take passport and driver’s licence photos have been carefully trained to make everyone they photograph look as hideous as possible.
There is a very strict code of conduct they must adhere to that guarantees this is the case. If by . . .