A glimpse into my few beautiful months with the ever lovely Diana Mini.
It was Christmas morning when I opened up a beautifully wrapped box, inside it was a tiny treasure, as long as my index finger and as tiny as a post-it. It was a brand new, sparkling camera. After months of waiting, I finally had her, my very own Diana Mini. It was love at first sight; I excitably loaded up my film and began shooting my Christmas on her. She was everything I had expected and more, lightweight and incredibly fun to use.
Then one day, exactly a year ago today in fact, I took her to London to take some shots in the Science Museum (where better place to shoot for a lomographer?!) And along the south bank to capture some of the sea in the city scenes, I had loaded up some slide film in her for the first time and was passionately shooting away under the beautiful London sun. Little did I know that my Diana Mini had started to slip away, her shutter curtain had become stuck on each shot, blowing out each of my images; I hopefully waited, with baited breath to see if anything fixed her, unfortunately nothing worked. She fell into disrepair just before high summer in England. I was absolutely and entirely devastated, that little camera was my favourite creative tool. I haven’t gotten round to buy myself a new one yet, but now it is definitely time. I can’t wait to open up my new little gem in a few weeks, I’m sure it’ll be rekindled love.
I’m sure I’m not the only one to have been upset about a camera which suffered a terrible fate, I’d love to know what cameras you’ve loved and lost.
The Diana Mini is the ultra-compact, petite version of the Diana F+. This camera takes soft-focused, lo-fi images in 35mm and allows you to change between half-format and square shots with a flick of a switch. Get your own Diana Mini now!




2 comments
georgina-bryant
grifflander
I don't think your Diana Mini succumbed to natural causes. This case has all the signs of a crime of passion committed by a neglected former lover, signs point to your old Olympus OM-2. I've seen this happen again and again. A stylish and expensive high priced SLR model is abruptly left sitting alone on the shelf for a simpler, but hipper and more exciting plastic shooter. The OM-2 lonely, spurned and forgotten desperately hatches a plan to take out the newcomer by gumming up the works (literally and figuratively). I'm sure a postmortem will reveal the OM-2 was behind the demise of fair Diana Mini. Perhaps a third party was involved? A rogue Rollei hitman slipped D a sticky beverage or perhaps a lowlife Holga looking for quick cash loosened a spring on her shutter paddle?