Run-down. Stressed. Worried. Anxious. Frustrated. That’s the state of my mind right now, having had the worst day today. Needless to say, my visa application at the home office’s Croydon branch did not go well — namely, the fact I was lacking original birth and marriage certificates for my grandparents and parents. At least they told me they were refusing my application today before I paid the £1,350 fee — otherwise “broke” would’ve been added to that first sentence too.

As my ancestral visa expires next Tuesday and all the appointments have already been snapped up before then, I’m now forced into doing what I really didn’t want to do — sending my application in by the post. Sure, it may be cheaper by a few hundred quid, but it also means foregoing my passport for six months (the average waiting time, apparently), and having all this anxiety hanging over my head for the period.

We can also kiss goodbye to going to Morocco for our first wedding anniversary, like we were hoping to — and it’s likely my passport won’t be back before September, so I’ll miss the annual IFA tech show too. (Though that’s a silver lining, for anyone who’s ever been.)

After 24 hours of trying to recall every visit outside the UK I’ve made since May 2006; collecting payslips, tax returns and other bits and pieces, and not to mention scanning-in and printing every page of my passport and certificates emailed to me from Australia by some poor nurse Dad tasked at the hospital today, I’m spent. Jim’s in Boston until Sunday; there’s no food in the fridge (our local Sainsbury’s has been closed 15 days now — who knew we depended so much on it!?), the flat is a mess and dear god if the pizza delivery guy doesn’t arrive soon, I’ll eat my arm off.

Image Credit: Kelly McCaleb via Blue Pool Road

Even Effie looks upset over how poor Lomography’s customer service is

I have to get this out before I just explode with anger: I am SO UNBELIEVABLE ANGRY AND FRUSTRATED BY LOMOGRAPHY’S CUSTOMER SERVICE.

There. Don’t think that didn’t hurt me to write — after all, I’ve been a loyal customer for several years now, having bought three cameras, spent hundreds on Lomography-brand film and even more money at the London Lomography Gallery Store processing my film.

Not to mention I’ve supported them at their various parties, events and workshops — and blogged endlessly about them here, and at my employer’s site, Gizmodo.

Some of you may’ve read I was having difficulty with my recently-purchased LC-A+, namely with the batteries. Or so I thought that was what the issue was, having been told by the London store staff in December, after three rolls of my film were botched. I blogged my story here, but also at Gizmodo — not expecting anything to come of it, really, because I just thought it was a nice (if sad) human-interest tale that readers may find interesting. It has had over 26,000 page views, to date.

The thought that someone from Lomography may get in touch after reading it had occurred to me, but it certainly wasn’t expected. A nice lady from Kodak’s UK PR emailed and offered me some rolls of film, feeling bad for me — which was lovely, but not necessary. A token apology from Lomography’s customer service and maybe even assurance that they were looking into the battery issue would’ve been nice. But no such contact was made.

HERE COMES THE FRUSTRATING PART…

Some of you may have heard it was my birthday last Monday. Some of you may know I like to take a lot of photos. Having armed my LC-A+ with new batteries that morning, I was dismayed to find the camera still wasn’t working — so considering I was in town with my camera, I popped by the Soho store. After fiddling with the camera, and trying various batteries in it, they concluded that actually, the problem with the camera wasn’t the batteries, but the electrics.

In short, I was sold a faulty camera by Lomography. It’s cruel that I only found out after three wasted rolls of films — photos shot over the Christmas period, that aren’t replaceable — but I thought it’d be easily-replaced, considering I only bought it in November. However, the (lovely) store staff told me they can’t actually make exchanges in-store, as it was bought online — so I must arrange with the website for a refund or replacement.

So off I went, sniffling a little after the bad news, and consoled myself with a cupcake. Well, it was my birthday, after all. I was really sad because it was the only camera I’d armed myself with all day for my birthday, so I had no other way to document my fun — other than with my mobile. The results which, obviously, are quite poor.

The next day, I sent off an email to Lomography’s customer service team:

Hello,

I bought an LC-A+ from the US website in November (however I live in the UK), but it hasn’t been working since the first roll I shot on it. I took it into the Gallery store in central London on Monday, and Liana said there was a problem with the electricals, and that I needed to contact the website to arrange for a return.

Could you please contact me as soon as possible to arrange a return / exchange? I am eager to get back to shooting!

Many thanks, Katherine

My email was then passed to Jozef Fecko, Online Logistics Manager, who emailed from Vienna (where Lomography is HQ-ed):

Hello Katherine,

Have you try to replace the batteries?
We also need a copy of the Invoice/Receipt to arrange an exchange.
Because we don’t have access to the US Orders here in Europe.

Best regards

I replied with:

Hello Jozef,

Yes, I replaced the batteries myself, and then the store manager at the London Gallery Store also changed the batteries — it was her (Liana) who said the electricals had gone and that I must arrange for an exchange.

I will forward the invoice/recipe to you directly after sending this email.

Thanks,

Kat.

Jozef then promptly emailed over the infuriating news:

Hello Kat,

Please visit this site: http://shop.lomography.com/customer-service

Read the Return Policy & Warranty Information passage,

Please add this printed e-mail and a copy of the Invoice to the package, too.

Send only the faulty part (LC-A+ camera), in as small package as possible!

When possible not certified/registered with post (because of high costs), and inside the period from one Week, to the address:

Lomographische AG

Attn: Customer Care

Hollergasse 41

A – 1150 Vienna

When you want a Refund, the goods muss be in a good resell able condition!

Thank you.

Best regards

I’ll save you the hassle of clicking the link, and paste the appropriate instructions on returning a product within the 24-month warranty period here:

Put the item(s) back in the original box, if available. The invoice or receipt must accompany the return.

Please Contact Us for a return authorisation of your purchase. This is absolutely necessary for correct processing of your return.

Send it back to us by the carrier of your choice to the Lomographic office that handled your order. You are responsible for payment of the return shipping cost. Lomography.com will not reimburse return shipping charges on any damaged items after 14 days from the day of purchase.

What followed was my verbose explosion at Jozef (with the bolded sentence I’ve just selected now being the crux of my argument):

Hi Jozef,

The warranty passage says that I’m responsible for the shipping charges, however I don’t think that’s fair. I’ll have to send it recorded delivery to Vienna from the UK, which will cost a lot. Considering three rolls of film I shot on the LC-A+ didn’t turn out (meaning I’ve already paid over £50 for film rolls plus processing costs) due to this problem, it’s galling to then have to pay more money to get it fixed.

When my rolls didn’t turn out, I was told by the London Gallery Store staff that I needed to change batteries. I did that, but the camera still wasn’t working. I then took it into the shop on Monday the 17th — my birthday, I might add, which I was obviously wanting to shoot photos on — and then told it was an issue with the electrics.

You can read of my plight on Gizmodo, where I wrote about the issues I was facing on December 31st: http://gizmodo.com/5721965/shooting-on-film-is-one-of-the-most-frustrating-experiences-yet-i-wont-stop

I’m not trying to be a difficult customer, I just think it’s incredibly unfair I should have to pay for shipping when it’s Lomography’s fault the camera is broken. I have already paid the price of having a broken camera, by the aforementioned processed film — photos I shot over Christmas, which is irreplaceable. When I had a problem with a Panasonic camera some years ago, they actually picked it up from me free of charge, and then repaired it free of cost — because it was under warranty.

It’s already frustrating enough that purchasing products on Lomography’s website cost so much postage as they’re sent from Vienna (it’s one of the reasons I purchased my LC-A+ on the American website), but why can I not return my camera to one of the London stores? It makes no sense at all.

I just want an exchange, and preferably from just walking into the London store. I’ve suffered enough with this camera — and have been a loyal Lomography customer for years, I must add.

Thank you,

Kat.

Jozef replied this morning with this brief email:

Hello Kat,

Because of the high cost, I written to you “When possible not certified/registered with post, and in as small package as possible”.

I can also “refund you” the shipping’s costs with piggi points. 1 piggi = 1 Eur. You can use the piggis on your next Order in our Online shop.

Thank you

Jozef

Piggy points, or “piggi,” as Jozef refers to them, are the store credits which can be redeemed in the shape of film, cameras or accessories on Lomography.com. They hand them out often, in exchange for uploading photos to their site, or in acts of goodwill.

It’s a shame that Lomography is headquartered in Vienna, Austria, meaning it makes no financial sense whatsoever to buy from their website, once you take into account the extortionate rate. Recently they ran a 3 rolls of film for the price of 2 offer — but once you accounted for shipping costs to the UK, it was actually cheaper to just buy them from the store. Or on Amazon. Or eBay. Or anywhere else that sells the film.

I’ve been giving countless piggies for various reasons, but have never used them because of the aforementioned shipping costs, but also because there’s nothing I want to buy on the website (film excluded, obviously). Say it costs me £50 to send my LC-A+ to Vienna, to get repaired/exchanged. What will I spend those £50 worth of piggies on? I’d rather just have my money back.

Or a new camera.

Addendum: I should point out that I really do love Lomography — which is perhaps why I find this so incredibly hurtful and difficult to blog about. I love their products (when they work); their philosophy; their stores; their very-knowledgeable store staff; plus of course their online manager Heidi and PR Linda.

I don’t want to go down the typical journalist route of whingeing to the PRs about my problem and hoping they can make it all better for me, because anyone — regardless of career – should be able to walk into either of the two Lomography stores in London (or the stores around the world, naturally), and exchange my camera there.

I was sold a faulty camera, and I’m going to fight them on this through principle alone.

One of the few photos I snapped before the LC-A+ batteries unknowingly died on me, of a man in Whitstable carrying a pet rabbit. Yes, really.

…I won’t give it up. But my goodness, have I been blubbing away today after getting three rolls of blank film processed at the Lomography store.

I’m pretty peeved actually (though I suppose it’s partly my fault), but halfway through shooting my second-ever roll of film on my new LC-A+, the batteries apparently died. Because I didn’t know this, I continued shooting another two rolls of film…only to receive nothing but blank images. GAH.

Supposedly the LC-A+ batteries are good for around nine rolls of film, and you can tell they need changing when the red light on the left side of the viewfinder disappears. I forgot all about this little test, and merrily went about, shooting on some lovely (and expensive) X-PRO Chrome film over the Christmas period, only to get 2.5 rolls of blank film back.

Sure, I got some photos back from the first of three blank rolls (19, to be exact — one of which was this guy in Whitstable, carrying a pet rabbit around), but I’m not very happy with them as the color and lighting are way-off. Plus, that’s £18 for the three rolls of film down the drain, plus £27 for processing — not to mention all those lost memories. I suppose I’m lucky that Jim was there, shooting in digital, but it’s not the same.

So, a word of warning for new LC-A+ owners: don’t use the GPA76 batteries the camera comes bundled with, as they’re renowned for having a low charge (as I’ve found out after googling around today). I’m off to buy me some SR44 batteries…but not before another little sob and perhaps a stern letter to Lomography. Boo!

Three women out of 20 (four, if you count my black MacBook in front) in a random slice of CES isn’t necessarily a bad thing

I’ve got a million things to do tonight (still haven’t changed out of my sweaty gym clothes, come to think of it), but I just wanted to write a brief something on a blog post by Vikki Chowney, which I saw RTed on Twitter.

I’ve always been hesitant to wade into the debate about women in technology – not least because I think it’s a non-issue. There are also some pretty disgusting, vocal women constantly harping on about it, turning it into an issue, which makes actual women working in technology even less inclined to get involved in the discussion. And further distances tech-hopefuls from entering the industry, for fear of them.

Anyway, to get back to Vikki’s post – I’ve never met her, but what she wrote about the topic is exactly what I’ve been thinking for some time now. To paraphrase:

“Well, it’s taken me a long time to work that out (for most of which I felt guilty for not being more supportive). First and foremost, I never liked the idea of separating the sexes – one rule for one, another for the other. When you’re trying to promote the notion of equality, dividing people into two groups only enhances the notion that they should be treated differently. If you take men out of the picture, you could be taking the best talent out of the equation. You might be at the top of your game, but only in part.”

Sure, I can see more women may be needed in the tech industry. But that’s the way the buttered toast falls. The issue of more men needed in teaching is far greater in need of addressing, I think. There’s no point ensuring every tech company has 50 per cent women, if more knowledgeable and experienced men are missing out on employment. That’s not fair on either side.

“Looking at women in tech here, there’s a distinct split. There are those who play on what’s perceived to be typically female traits – giggly, happy-go-lucky excitement – and those who strive to rebel against this, sometimes to the point of being sensationalist. I don’t disagree with either approach; I just don’t fit into either group.”

I’ve met both sides, which is one reason why I don’t frequent press events as much as I used to. The latter group of women exist in every industry I’m sure, but when some of them are banging on about women needing to support each other more, then actually doing the exact opposite themselves, actually makes them look like right fools. I don’t think they realise how damaging they’re being to themselves, and others.

The former group is perhaps the less dangerous – indeed, they’re far less acidic – but still manage to damage the reputation of women within the industry.

I’d prefer to just stay out of it, and like Vikki, get on with what I’m doing. If you take your eyes off the game and glance around at what everyone else is doing, then you’re just going to get more burnt out and exasperated, sooner.

Next month marks five years of me writing online professionally, with about four of those years within the tech industry. I’d like to think that the above notion has put me on good stead for the years ahead, but after this last paragraph I’m going to go back to putting my head in the sand when it comes to women within the tech industry. Especially before I venture into the whole “working online or running a website doesn’t mean you work in technology” pit of frustration.

Now, to change out of these gym clothes and get back to addressing these bloody wedding invitations that have been blocking out every evening of the past week.