I have just spend fifteen quid in an attempt to get a set of
passport photos that do not make me look like a
serial killer with a
hangover.
Truly good photos are rare and wonderful things in passports. I have a theory that there is a special filter in the
photo booths, that adds the layer of
grime,
pallor, and
exhaustion. It helps
immigration officials recognise you when you crawl through the
airport after 36 hours of
travelling, a
mugging, and a bad case of
dysentery.
I had been
married a year before I showed my passport photo to my
beloved. Yes. It was that bad.
And so, with my passport stolen by the
pond-scum who
burgled our flat this weekend, and several trips for work and play coming up in the very near future, it's time to go around and around on the hellish
merry-go-round of getting a new passport.
Replacing a passport is easy. If you have a passport, you hold it up and say, "See, that's me! now give me another one." And they nod and smile, and relieve you of 28 pounds, and give you a new one. But, if your entire collection of
ID has been lifted in the burglary, you're a bit stuffed. I've not seen my
birth certificate for at least a dozen years. And nothing else will do.
And so I order a new birth certificate. Try to remember my mother's
middle name. Try to remember my own name (I have evil middle names that I rarely use). This is the easy bit. The photos are where the
pain starts.
First set: I look like a serial killer again. A really mean one, who is cruel to little
fluffy animals, pulls out old ladies'
fingernails and then gets gory. Luckily there are
greasy fingermarks all over the glass, that make it look like I have
snow on my head. This means I get to do another set.
Second set: I
sneeze, just as the flash goes off, and my picture is a huge
blur as my head moves. Damn. Looks pretty cool, a swirly smudge of
purple hair and two black blurs for eyes. Maybe it will do for my
travelcard.
Third set:
Smug. One of those, "ner ner ner ner, I know more than you" smiles plastered on my face. Not good. Attempt to think up an excuse to try again. I will have this photograph for ten years. Oh no! I will have
violet hair for ten years. (And this photo makes it look
blue.) Oh, nifty, there's a little button that will let me switch to
black and white. Try again.
Fourth and final set: Black and white. Wow, those are
dark shadows under my eyes. Only semi-smug now that I'm not smiling. It looks nothing like me. It looks OK. These two comments may be connected.
Enough. This will do. Now I just have to find someone to sign the bugger on the back, and then spend most of tomorrow hanging around at
Petty France till they hand over the goods.
On a more practical note, for a UK passport application you need two recent photographs which must be:
so says the information leaflet for the
United Kingdom Passport Application