October 18, 2004

• Thrift stores are interesting places to buy photographic equipment. They usually have some sort of jewelry case, where the gear you're interested in is located under glass. Nothing is price marked where you can see it, and it's really hard to discern the quality. So you argue with yourself about whether you should trouble a cashier to come over and show you something you probably won't buy because it's either too broken or overpriced.

  There's one thrift store that has like a million 8-inch long or so hunks of zoom lens. That is, it looks like a little forest of black trees with numbers on the side on that one shelf. Of course the price tags are away from the glass, and the protective caps are on the ends, so you can't tell what kind of mount it is. Not that I need a zoom lens or anything, though.

  Last time I was at this store, though, I saw something in the corner of the case, something I instantly knew would require harassing a cashier into letting me look.

  

  Praktica! The East German camera manufacturer! It's like a little piece of the Berlin wall was in that jewelry case. Naturally, after testing it out and finding it in working order, I bought it. (I used to buy old computers on a whim. Cameras, at least, retain their usefulness and don't take up as much space.)

  

  A big part of what I love about this camera is its case. It looks like fetish gear. This is the camera you take to bondage night for a few quick snapshots.

  

  Once Mistress Dominatrix has given you permission to open the case, you see the camera that Kyle McLaughlin would be, if he were a camera: Tall, thin, quirky.

  

  

  It's big. In fact, to look at it, one might think it's ungainly and heavy, not ideal for East German Taas spying-on-your-neighbor work. But pick it up, and its heft and weight is reassuring. It's not too large for my smallish hands, and is balanced nicely.

  But the most endearing thing about this camera is the satisfying sound it makes when you trip the shutter. The mechanism for setting the shutter speed is a poor design from a usability standpoint, but an acceptable tradeoff for mechanical simplicity. And boy does it make a cool sound.

  Also, the Pentaflex SL was manufactured between 1965 and 1968, meaning this camera is as old as I am.

  • 9:07 am
  • 5 Comments