I was taking pictures of some of my coworkers with my new digital camera over the past couple of days, and more than one acted like I had done something really irritating. They were pretty innocuous shots of them working – I wasn’t looking for embarrassing material. My sister is also someone who really doesn’t like to have her picture taken.
If I can see you taking the picture and we’re at the office - that’s okay.
If I’m changing my clothes at night and you’re snapping from the shrubs outside - that’s ba… actually, that’s okay too. Caveat emptor, mate.
Seriously though, a few of my friends are pretty camera-shy. Some people really don’t like the way they look in photos and likely to be anxious if you photograph them unprepared. Me, I am confident in my beauty.
I don’t like having my picture taken - and the discomfort comes thru most of the time. I hate sitting for portraits, but one does what one must.
My coworker brought in his brand-new digital cam and he wanted to take pictures of everyone - I protested that. I’ve had too many awful pics taken at work - the world doesn’t need another. In any event, I prefer to be asked before I’m photographed - give me a chance to put on my human expression!!
This is pretty much a “me too,” but no, I don’t like it when someone takes my picture without asking, particularly when it’s someone I don’t know.
I know I’m out in public, but it feels like an invasion of privacy.
I don’t like it. I don’t like pictures of me. I put up with them if someone insists, but I’d prefer not.
I have an uncle who absolutely must drag the camera out every single time more than two people are in the same room. Everyone hates this. Everyone has told him as much. Still he insists on capturing the moment. He especially prefers the “candid shot” which means calling someone’s name as they’re taking a bite of food and then snapping the picture.
Fortunately, no one ever sees any of these pictures, but it’s still obnoxious. Someone’s gonna snap some day and we’ll have 36 exposures of the inside of my uncle’s colon.
The “Me, too” post.
If someone sidles up and then whips out a camera with a “Gotcha” attitude, then yes, I hate it and would be pretty pissed off.
If they ask, and say, “Hey, we need a couple shots for the company newsletter. Sit at your desk and pretend you’re working”, then I wouldn’t have a problem.
My mother is kind of like Legomancer’s uncle in that she has a real talent for capturing people at their worst…with a mouthful of food, while sneezing or yawning…whatever looks bad. And she keeps them!
When she dies, I’m going to be the first one at her house…not to cart off the valuables, but to find and destroy all the hideous pictures she has.
I don’t mind, but I have to say that I don’t remember the situation ever coming up. People can’t bring cameras to where I work.
When I was much younger and cuter I worked at an amusement park and was asked many times to pose with visitors, or else people just video’d me while they were riding the ride. The nice foreign man who said “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” before he took a picture really made my day.
I’m not as cute anymore, but I don’t understand people who are always so grumpy about having their pictures taken.
My husband won’t take pictures of me, which bothers me, but that’s another story.
I hate having my picture taken and will do almost anything to avoid it…I don’t like the way most pictures of me look and I find it embarassing to have someone “attack” with a camera.
Interestingly, I greatly enjoy taking pictures and have a large collection of photo books…perhaps because I study pictures so intently, I feel that other observers do the same and I don’t want to open myself up to their scrutiny.
I thoroughly enjoy having my picture taken. I love when strangers take my picture. I renew my license weekly just to get a stranger to take my picture… okay that last one went a bit far.
Seriously though, I just have a gift of looking good in just about every picture I’ve ever taken. Even my mug shots from the occasional nights stay, courtesy of the state of Texas, could be used for family portraits, and this is after the shower lice shampoo and khaki jumper (it scares me how good I look in those… hmmmm vain? me?). I even had the lady guard tell me I was very photogenic one time after taking my mug shot. Hmm I don’t come across as the sweet good guy that I am from this posting…
I loathe having my picture taken because I look horrible in nearly every picture I’ve taken since I was six. But as my dad says, “Pictures don’t lie.” Even my boyfriend admits that I’m not at all photogenic.
But I’m not offended so much as apprehensive, and it comes through in pictures. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I don’t like my looks, so I hate to be photographed.
I hate to pose for family shots, I can’t fake my meager smile for that long. Hurry up! My sister and I will pose together for “wacky” shots of our choice and tell family “it’s this or nothing.”
Candid, surprise shots are the worst though. If I can’t stop you from snapping it, fine. Just don’t expect me to sit still, not walk away if I see you, or not turn my back. If you can’t ask me, then I have no obligation to help you get your shot.
When I take pictures (horrible as they are) I actually rarely take them of people. I prefer to not have people in my shots, especially if they pose. If I want people in the shot, I’d rather take it from far enough away that no one is aware I’m taking one.
I don’t particularly mind having my picture taken–as long as I know where the picture’s going to end up. The photography students at my high school wander around the classrooms and take pictures. I really, truly hate that because the worst shots of me end up in the yearbook.
I don’t mind candid shots taken by friends, though. They aren’t putting those up anywhere. Plus, I look loads better in those than posed pictures. (With exceptions-- my marching band attends several competitions with professional photographers down on the field while we’re marching, taking candid shots to sell. All of those pictures seem to prominently feature my butt in pants three sizes too large. Bleh.)
And yeah, it’s possible. This is the same uncle who’s in to geneaology, which means, like every other geneaologist, he assumes everyone else is fascinated by it. I’m only related to him by his marriage to my aunt, so the fact that I don’t give a damn about my own family roots is compounded by the fact that I give even less a damn about his family roots. Which doesn’t stop him from going on in great detail about it. So yeah, I suppose it’s possible this is part of some sort of elaborate documentation plan of his.
Doesn’t make it any less obnoxious, though. People will ask him, politely and otherwise, to not take pictures, and he ignores them and clicks away.