Rachel Wong, an independent design researcher and strategist, recalls a particularly revealing study participant.

I was working at a design firm, doing a quick photo diary study. The user segment we were studying were young X-Games-types, e.g., risk-takers and thrill-seekers. We were trying to get inspired by their mindset and approach to life. This was back in the days when Polaroids were commonly used in fieldwork studies for people to document aspects of their lives in context. We gave each participant a photo diary kit, which included a Polaroid camera, film, and prompts on sticker labels. They were asked to use the prompts to inspire their picture taking, and then to affix the corresponding prompts to each photo. The prompts for this study were open-to-interpretation statements like: “This gets me excited” or “This is a relief.”

One of the guys I’d recruited for the study was an acquaintance whom I’ll call Bobby – a shy, sweet, young guy big into skating. I was so happy he agreed to participate. A week later I dropped by his house to pick up his completed kit. “Thanks, it was fun,” he said earnestly, and I gave him his incentive and thanked him.

As soon as I was home I reviewed Bobby’s photo diary and did a double take when I saw that for one of the photos Bobby had documented himself in the act of sex with an anonymous partner, associated with the prompt: “This feels good.” For a Polaroid, the photo had an impressive amount of detail, in close-up no less.

Suffice to say, this was much different than the average photo diary entry and shocked and entertained my project team the whole next morning. As I posted all the photo diary responses in a large grid on foamcore, I struggled with whether to include the illicit photo in my display. We ended up turning it around, and then hiding it away when the client came for a meeting.

But when I think about it now, I realize Bobby was communicating something about his life approach that was powerful and honest. It makes me wonder how much we edit our study participants’ responses in light of work appropriateness, and even how many of our study participants edit their own responses, shielding their most real opinions in exchange for what they think we want to hear.

So, thank you Bobby for giving me an ounce of your truth, though I wasn’t really equipped to handle it. And I’m glad it was fun.

Sunset, Pacific Grove, CA

Last weekend we went to a wedding (at gorgeous Asilomar, in Pacific Grove). The weekend before we had visited some friends who recently been married, and they showed us their photo album and their Polaroid album, where everyone who attended posed for a Polaroid and inscribed the page in the book where the picture was posted. In fact, some wedding crashers appeared in the book, with (their real?) names signed.

So, weren’t surprised when this wedding featured something similar. But the experience was far from perfect. As we headed from the ceremony into the reception, we waited in a long line – not to greet the happy couple, but for the bottleneck in the process – the picture. You had to complete the task in order to be granted admission to the reception. Indeed, they were not permitting couples or groups to pose together, but singling out each individual person to stand alone (while those behind them watched on) and yelling “smile” at them. Suddenly, the notion of having my picture taken took on privacy/government/civil-liberties overtones. Every single person was being documented; the celebratory feeling was drained away when they insisted upon solo shots. The wedding scenario is highly scripted, even as it evolves, and there are meanings (couplehood, for example) attached to many of the minor rituals; well there are no doubt meanings attached to all of the rituals, whether implicit or explicit. So when creating new rituals, one has to be sensitive to the context. Lining up for individual photos before we can eat evokes an immigration process; posing quickly for a snapshot with a data is celebratory.

Sure, it wasn’t a big deal and didn’t impact the wedding experience greatly, but I was impressed by the power of small details to shift meaning and reframe/reassociate an entire transaction.

This is pretty crazy – you can take any online image and turn it into a Polaroid. Now of course, a Polaroid has many attributes – in the taking, the developing, the texture, the quality, oh and the little spot to write on. This doesn’t really offer all of this, but it still someone qualifies (in someone’s mind) as Polaroid-ness. No doubt this is infringing on something?