I was recently introduced to the term, “Camera Girl” as I was researching the history of 1940s nightclubs. My husband starting calling me Camera Girl and at first the term annoyed me, as I thought it sounded very childish and well…annoying. As I began to read about these girls the term started to take on a different shape. These were not just some camera girls portrayed in a Hollywoodflick. These “girls” were working class women armed with speed graphic cameras and flashbulbs at nightclubs across America. These were real women. Ida S. Beck, Jeanne Crain, Frances Lear.

The nightclubs hired Camera Girls from local photography companies. These girls operated 4×5 press cameras snapping images of guests that could be ordered later. They sometimes wore outfits similar to a cigarette girl and were sort of a novelty item at the clubs. I have yet to see an actual image of a camera girl in action. I have been scouring Weegee’s (Arthur Fellig the famous press photographer of the 1930s-40s) photographs hoping to discover a glimpse of one of these dames in the background of one of is photographs taken of social venues at night. This was before people documented every moment of their life digitally. I know that these Camera Girls were a part of nightlife culture, but their own image has been lost somewhere behind the camera.

What I have found are the pictorial remnants of their work. These I find in random piles of vintage ephemera at the flea market, stacked between yellowed holiday cards at the thrift store, or possibly tucked away with your own family’s memorabilia from back in “the day”. My husband started collecting them and at first I just thought they were a neat piece of Ephemera. Until I realized that each one was taken by a different camera girl. Once I realized what these were I started finding more of them, which seems to be the way things work when one is hunting for random vintage things in old boxes. I began to covet them. These little paper frames represented a connection of some kind to these Camera Girls.

After maybe sixty years in a dirty box in someone’s garage these little gems find their way into my hands. They become evidence of faded trace of a tradition that has long since slipped from the conscious of our culture. Each one comes in a custom paper souvenir frame from the restaurant or nightclub logo on the front. Often times the people in the picture have signed the inside of it as a keepsake of the evening. The people in the photographs are usually seated around a table with drinks looking gay. Evenings concluded with just one image capturing the entire night mounted neatly in a custom frame. Imagine how many of these souvenir photos you would have after a while. You might have a stack of these tucked away in a drawer, each one commemorating a celebratory evening out on the town.

Each one made by some camera girl loading a sheet of 4×5 film into a film holder, which is then slid into a slot in the back of the press camera, a flashbulb inserted into the bayonet of the flash unit, the metal focusing rail adjusted to match the estimated distance of the subject to viewer, framing approximated by peering through a metal frame protruding from the top of the camera and POP! A stream of smoke is released from the bulb as it is ignited causing an audible pop, momentarily blinding both the subject and Camera Girl. The process of photographing in this manner turns into sort of a performance piece. Every little step has to be executed for each and every frame. A bag full of loaded film holders and unused flashbulbs also must be carted around. Remember this was all executed by the Camera Girls in a pair of heels and cute little outfit as they wooed the guests into buying photographs. Most people today (man or woman) would find this job near to impossible. Having personal experience shooting on vintage press cameras with flashbulbs I have developed an incredible amount of respect for these women.

I know it is hard to imagine the pre-digital camera world, but please try for just a moment. In our modern society we are very accustomed to our instantly-captured culture. We have grown to expect digital documentation in every aspect  of our world. We want cameras that will fit in a clutch, a pocket, a hand, a phone. We want to carry them with us, fearing that we might miss something. Or rather our camera might miss something. We were not always like this. Men used to wear hats and women wore gloves. There was etiquette to an evening out on the town and nobody worried whether or not their digital camera fit into their evening bag.

XOX Camera girl