An Explosion of Color

Dapper Day falls on or around Penny’s birthday every year. I was going to bring three cameras. One with a wide angle lens, another with a telephoto, and the third for black and white. Because even a riot of color like Dapper Day lends itself to black and white. None of the cameras are big, and my carrying system is designed for exactly this kind of setup. But I woke up feeling like my concept for the mission was bonkers overkill, a walking Christmas tree of photo gear caroling “don’t be this guy.” I opted for one camera and one lens, some extra batteries, and no flash. And one card, which was unintentional and somewhat unfortunate.

First stop was Bebo’s barber stand, where Bill was having a beard trim. Bill, at a very young age, was an expert marksman. Now, he’s taking aim against cancer. Aaron came with a group of friends, his first Dapper Day. He bought and wore a functioning steampunk compass around his neck, and since he used to play ball, he convinced one of the vendors to sell him a signed baseball for twenty bucks. Aaron’s group included Kaluba, who’s not Hawaiian. Carmen wore a flower crown so full, I’m sure it could have tipped her over. Down the road, Little Emma hammed it up with her mom, Sarah. Everybody looked like a million bucks. There was a blue car and a pink car, and I could swear that was Louis Prima singing with the band. Bright, intense colors everywhere. A tintype booth. Handlebar mustaches and bowlers. Vests and jackets, gabardine suits, crinoline, snoods, and red, red lips. Cat eye sunglasses, bakelite jewelry, pillbox hats. Let’s not forget the pomade! The bald bartender didn’t want to be photographed, so I didn’t. The other one did, so I did. In this hyperchromatic riot of beauty overload, I ran into one or two claims of not being photogenic. It’s a lie. Everyone is photogenic if you catch them at the right moment. Put them at ease. Treat them like old friends, because after today, that’s exactly what they are. Happy Dapper Day, everybody.