To The Instagram Husbands.
noun: Instagram husband; plural noun: Instagram husbands
1. A long suffering husband/boyfriend/girlfriend/best friend/Mum who takes hours out of their day to take an impromptu Insta worthy photo shoot with lack of photographic training or payment.
"Big thanks to my Instagram husband for this candid shot. And the other 50 on my camera roll"
synonyms: Insta boyfriend, my photographer, bae.
Ah the humble Instagram husband. Those we rope into taking 91839826472647 photos of us for a single shot we're happy with instead of paying for a professional photographer who, ya know, it's their job to take good quality photos.
The Instagram husband who takes many forms; personal stylist, photographer, editor, bag carrier...the list goes on and their duties only multiply.
The Instagram husband who wait diligently whilst we prance and preen until we're stopped still for them to get a snap, the ones at whom we scream "NO I WANTED PHOTOS OF ALL OF THAT IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE CANDID."
The Instagram husband who is sick to the back teeth of the phrase "can you just get a quick snap of me over there please?" because they know it is never quick.
The Instagram husband who we stand, position, manipulate and pose - just to take a shot of them and say "there I want it EXACTLY like that but with me in."
The Instagram husband who when they get used to the camera, get used to the style of shot you want and actually start taking some quality snaps and enjoying themselves are forced to do it until the end of time because "you're actually alright at this aren't you?"
Their job is not one they asked for, nor is it paid for or compensated in any other way than a 'cheers thanks'. It's a thankless task, they don't get to see the fruits of their labour get 500 likes on Instagram. God help them if the photo bombs. It's a role they didn't sign up to play when they befriended us but it's a role we ask them to fill anyway.
And so today, on this sunny bank holiday Monday when most of the Instagram husbands in the UK will be snapping away trying to get that perfect "take it from behind and I'll put my arms up in two peace signs and caption it hashtag summer" pic - we say thank you.
Thank you for letting us feature your work all over our blogs and social media without a tag - we'd slate a brand for the very same.
Thank you for reassuring us we look great when we're having a 5 minute meltdown and for biting your tongue when we scream "ARE YOU JOKING OMG WHATEVER LET'S JUST FORGET IT" and give up. You've only been trying for the last 45 minutes.
Thank you for posing for us, for working it gurl and for filling our camera rolls with pics of yourself doing all the cliché blogger esque things we want for ourselves.
Thank you for learning to use our cameras, for listening to our composition demands, for moving our coke out of the shot because you know we hate it when that's in there.
Thank you for putting up with the constant social media updates even when you're not the one with the camera anymore. When the photo shoot is done and we're still halfway down the street taking pics of the blossom from 291092473287 angles thank you for waiting for us. Thank you for holding our bags whilst we run off to get that perfect snap of the sea. Thank you for putting up with the incessant "move it's a boomerang". Thank you for not getting arsey when we yell "GET OUT OF MY SHOT" when we're trying to get an empty street of cute houses.
We thank you for it all.
And now, we turn to my Instagram husband because today we have been together for 8 long years. He didn't know I'd start a blog and Instagram would be a thing and I'd make him my personal photographer back at the chipper age of 17 when we were still in school and yet, he doesn't complain that much.
He still poses for the photos I want, he still tries to replicate what I have said I want "EXACTLY LIKE THIS". He still takes more photos when I review them and say "yeah but can you just move it like a centimetre up, I think the crop would be better like that".
He still doesn't flinch when I hang the camera strap around his neck because I don't trust him, a 25 year old man, not to drop my camera. He still takes 298483578365 photos even when I profess the shoot is done and I'm walking back to him because he knows I'm likely to choose one of the actually candid ones.
He has still come away with me this weekend to spend some time by the sea, in the sunshine where I will inevitably ask him to do it all again and reward him with nothing else than making him carry the rucksack with the picnic in because I am too warm.
They do it, they only marginally complain and we love them all the more for it amiright?