The lost art of printing photos

Lately I’ve been going through old photos from Simon’s family’s archives. So many hidden gems to be found in the pages of these albums.

I don’t personally know anyone who prints their photos on a regular basis, outside of the occasional holiday card. With the rise of digital and social sharing, all our photos now live in the cloud on the internet somewhere. Though I am happy that there’s less physical clutter in the world, some part of me feels the need to continue printing photos.

I’ve always printed my photos. Ever since my family would get their film processed at Costco’s Photo Center (RIP) back in the day, I’ve scrapbooked my way through life with physical photo albums. And even as we switched to digital in the mid to late 2000s, I’d pick out pictures to print every few months to keep those albums fresh and up-to-date. 13-year-old me would happily accompany my mom to Costco with my flash drive, and order prints to be picked up an hour later at the end of our grocery run.

Organizing photos with my grandpa in 2008. This is my love language.

These albums are highlight reels of our lives, where I get to tell my story through my own eyes. Rather than an unfiltered grid of everything that’s ever happened, these books remind me of my favorite moments. At the end of a trip or a photoshoot, I always take the time to process photos, pick out standout images, write about them on this blog, and at the very end, print them out and either add them into my albums or gift them to people. For a sentimental sap like me with bad memory, this practice is truly one of my hobbies. And I think it’s also become such an amazing gift because of its rarity.

When you print photos, they become art. Unfortunately, modern interior decor trends don’t value hanging photographs of loved ones anymore, which makes me sad. One of my favorite spots in my parents’ house is the grid of photo magnets on the fridge. It really livens up what is otherwise just a functional space to make you stop for a second and reminisce.

My parents’ fridge.

Photo magnets have become one of my go-to gifts.

Black and white photos also make for great art! I’m always inspired by galleries and exhibits that treat photographs like traditional fine art. They get curated and hung just like any painting would, coming together to tell a cohesive story.

Zanele Muholi exhibit at SFMOMA.

Fahey Klein Gallery in Los Angeles showcases photographs from fashion photography legends.

Holding a piece of paper that isolates a single moment is special, because you can stop and focus on reliving it. Rather than a quick swipe on a phone screen in anticipation of the next swipe, prints feel like they immortalize a memory.

So thank you Shutterfly for keeping this industry alive, I guess? Although I’m disappointed by the declining print quality, at least it’s still an affordable option for casual printing.

Snaps from our latest adventures.

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