I often find myself discussing the concept of “vintage” with my father during our phone calls. I live in France, while my parents are in Northumberland. The term means different things to different generations. For my 25-year-old son, vintage clothing is anything from the 90s, he even wears a few of my old sweaters from that era. At 52, I’m starting to think of myself as slightly vintage too. And to my 15-year-old daughter, my father, who grew up during the war, must seem positively ancient.

A camera from the 1990s feels relatively modern to me, while those from the 70s and 80s seem older but not quite ancient. Using these older cameras forces me to slow down and be more deliberate. Each shot becomes a considered act rather than a reflex, and there’s something satisfying about that slower pace, even if the cameras themselves aren’t the latest technology.

My own “vintage collection” began with an SLR from the 1980s: an East German Praktica MTL3 that served me faithfully until 2009. After it finally gave up, I quickly replaced it with another. From there, I explored more iconic cameras from the 1970s and 1980s, back when they were still relatively affordable, before the hipsters discovered film photography and the prices started rising.

My exploration didn’t stop there. I began to seek out cameras from the 1960s and even the 1950s. The oldest camera in my collection dates back to 1949! It’s quite vintage, even for me, though perhaps not so much for my father. Each piece is a link to a past era, a tactile connection to history that digital tools can’t replicate.

There was a time during the digital age when people tried to recapture the film aesthetic, and right on cue, apps like Hipstamatic, Instagram, and VSCO turned up. They embraced the nostalgic look of film, but it’s never quite matched the real thing.

Which led me to a simple thought: if I wanted that film aesthetic, why not use actual film and cameras from the eras I admire? I’ve always been drawn to old things, having loved exploring a special drawer at my grandmother’s house filled with genuine relics. My fascination with older technology, particularly when it’s still functional, has never gone away.

So just because something’s old doesn’t mean it doesn’t still work, and it might open up a whole world you didn’t know existed. It can be a bit quirky, but once you get past that, the world’s your oyster.