the last photo contest

I had sworn off photo contests. I really had. I accepted that they are largely money grabs that celebrate derivative mediocrity and ethnic/gender stereotypes. But I got drawn in anyway, this time by The Independent Photographer.

The category was Portraits, which I’m good at. And IP’s brand identity - a bold grid and a sans serif font - made me think they might embrace an edgier aesthetic.

But just by looking at the photo in her bio, and the work on her website, I knew the guest editor wouldn’t like my work. I KNEW it. But I gave her the benefit of the doubt. Don’t be so judgey of her soft focus and pale pastel palettes, I scolded myself. She may appreciate other styles when judging the work of others!

She didn’t. I wasn’t one of the 9(?) finalists and I haven’t seen whether I’m even an Editor’s pick on their Instagram.

It took the proverbial ton of bricks to fall on my head but I finally get it. I. Will. Never. Win. One. Of. These. I’m not bitter; I’m just no longer a chump.

Below are the images I entered. You can Google to see who won. IP already got my time and $40; I’m not giving them clicks too.