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In late Fall 2019 during a trip home to Chicago, strolling the smutty literary sections of my favourite bookshop in Bucktown…I noticed an analog photobooth with a box of masks and props sitting on a stool beside it. First of all, I had never even noticed this photo booth, but without even thinking I walked right in, closed the curtain, fed the vintage machine $4 and stripped.


That first horse head nude strip (#36) started it all. Since then I have been to several photo booths around the States and two out of the country, but I knew I’d be coming back to my first love. Tucked away in the back corner of the bookstore, nestled between the racks of independent zines (who reads zines anyone?) is what might be the most discreet photo booth as far as gettin’ naked and “doing the most” goes. 


In early February the coldest month in Chicago, I spent a whole hour in this booth and let me tell you…it gets warm in there! Rushing between poses, clothing changes, trying not to twist an ankle perched on tippy-toes atop a swiveling seat! Then silent as a mouse, sitting awkwardly naked and waiting for a bookstore patron to pass by…my cat-like reflexes ready to poke someone’s eye out if they tried to open the curtain. 

Luckily, no one lost their sight this time.

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