The Clawfoot Tub – A One-Shot Story

My wife, Dawn, is a good sport. She never complains when I take her photo, even when she’s having a bad day. But her patience has limits. Boudoir shots are off limits, and I need to get her permission before posting her picture online. This is a story about how I broke both those rules and ended up in deep domestic trouble.

A few months ago, my wife was taking a relaxing afternoon bath while I was reading in the opposite room. When I got up to stretch my legs, I walked past the bathroom and saw that the scene of her in the tub was particularly striking. I knew Dawn wouldn’t appreciate me taking a photo of her in the tub, but I couldn’t resist.

I ran downstairs, grabbed my Leica MP, and quietly made my way back upstairs. Fortunately, the camera was already loaded with a high-speed film (Kodak T-Max P3200) and had a fast lens (a Summilux-M 50mm f/1.4), meaning I wouldn’t be too hindered by the dim light in the bathroom.

I peeked around the corner. She was still lying in the same position with a book covering her face. I thanked the photographic gods for my good luck. I knew I would only have one chance to take the picture without disrupting the scene. I set my exposure, framed the image, and snapped the shutter.

The quiet click caught her attention. The book came down from her face and she saw me standing there, guilty, my camera behind my back. I’d broken a golden rule. But I assured her that no revealing parts made it into the frame. “I swear, just arms and legs…”

When I eventually showed her the scanned negative, she was quite pleased with the result, and no more was said about my transgression. It goes without saying that I didn’t dare ask her if I could post it on social media.

I also thought the image was pretty good, and when I’ve captured a nice photo I typically submit it to the Leica Fotografie International (LFI) gallery, where it has a chance to win a Master Shot award — a small recognition bestowed upon the best photos submitted each day.

What do you think I did? I submitted the photo without hesitation and was tickled pink when a few hours later I received an email notifying me that it was chose as a Master Shot. It gets worse, I then let my ego get the best of me and posted the photo to my Instagram with the hashtag #leicamastershot.

The thing is, my wife doesn’t check my Instagram, so I thought I was safe. But when I uploaded the image, I accidentally clicked the tab “Share to Facebook.” I don’t have Facebook, but my wife does. On my iPhone, the Facebook app is linked to her account because I often buy and sell items on Marketplace. What I’m saying is, I accidentally posted the bathtub photo to Dawn’s Facebook page and didn’t even realize I did this until I received a phone call a few hours later.

Dawn was at work when I made the post and a colleague mentioned to her over lunch that she loved the photo of her in the bathtub. Dawn didn’t know what she was talking about and called me to double check that the image wasn’t online (she doesn’t have Facebook on her work phone).

I immediately removed the image from Instagram and Facebook, but it was too late. Dozens of family members and friends had already seen it and commented. When Dawn came home, I owned up to my mistakes, which left me in the doghouse for quite some time.

Each week, LFI selects one of Master Shot to be Picture of the Week. It then shares this picture on its social media platforms, which have tens of thousands of followers, and highlights it in a weekly online newsletter. You can imagine my excitement, when Dawn’s picture was selected.

Seeing how happy I was, she didn’t have the heart to be upset. She even let me repost the image to my Instagram, where it is now pinned to the top of the page. And that’s the story of the Clawfoot Tub photo.

I hope you enjoyed this story and the accompanying photos. If you want to follow more of Kip and my adventures of film, please consider following me on Instagram. You can find more of my photos at Leica Fotografie International.

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