(Credit: René Ramos/PCMag Composite/Kodak)
I recently spotted a coworker with the Kodak Charmera, a tiny keychain camera that gives the 1987 Kodak Fling a modern twist. But unlike other trendy backpack accessories like the Labubu, the Charmera is a fully functioning point-and-shoot digital camera. I was intrigued enough to pick one up for myself—at $34.99, the Charmera is priced firmly in impulse-purchase territory. Luckily, it turned out to be one of the best impulses I've had in a while. After spending some time with the camera, it has reawakened a love for photography I had long forgotten.
Why Aesthetics Matter More Than Megapixels
Before we go any further, I should let you know, dear reader, that I am not a good photographer. While I’ve always liked photography, I've never really developed an eye for it. Or at least, I could never get the image in my head through the lens. But I've always had a love for it.
My girlfriend, on the other hand, is a pretty good photographer, and she’s amassed quite a collection of older, vintage cameras over the last few years. But recently, her hobby has led her to finding and restoring digital cameras from 15 to 20 years ago. Why? Because the early aughts are all the rage, and getting that Myspace-quality selfie simply cannot be replicated by a phone.
I bought the Kodak Charmera as a gift—one for me, and one for her. We both enjoy buying blind boxes of vinyl figures and other tchotchkes to fill our desks and bookshelves, and upon first glance, you might think the Charmera is no different—just a $34.99 keychain accessory with a distinct '80s aesthetic. But pop in a microSD card, and you’ve got a fully functioning digital camera.
What makes this different from the camera on my iPhone? Aesthetics, baby. My iPhone 12 has a 12MP camera that can shoot 4K video, while the Charmera features a 1.6MP sensor that captures lower resolution (1,440 by 1,080) than HD (1,920 by 1,080). The Charmera’s pictures are unquestionably worse than those you can take on a modern phone, with little dynamic range and detail. But that crustiness is exactly what makes the camera so appealing.
Lower-quality photography is popular right now, especially with younger people (for the record, I wasn't alive in 1987 when the Kodak Fling launched). In addition to the craving for Y2K aesthetics, Gen Z has broken away from the overprocessed perfection of smartphone photography, seeking the grain and perceived authenticity associated with old-school digital cameras.
I'm not the only one who has noticed the shift. In an article from NPR, host of the Nerdy Photographer, Casey Fatchett, notes, "There's so much processing that goes on in your phone that you don't have any control over. So I think that there is a yearning among young people for photos that look real, especially of themselves. So there's a feeling there that you can't get from your cellphone camera."
It's true, the Kodak Charmera doesn't really replicate the '00s aesthetic—the orange tinge and faded look of its photos remind me of something you'd find in a family album rotting in the attic, not your average Tumblr dump—but the idea is the same. The Charmera's lo-fi visuals are part of the charm.
The Thrill of Delayed Gratification
The tiny camera also makes for a great ice breaker. At a dinner among friends and acquaintances, I pulled out the camera to take a picture of the scene. But when I did, everyone immediately oohed and ahhed at the tiny camera held against my eye. Needless to say, the Charmera was passed around the table for all to see.
This was a major relief for me. In a time when everything is curated, and everyone is self-conscious about their image, taking a quick candid photo with an iPhone can feel embarrassing. However, I found that people who saw my little Kodak were more eager to pose for a picture than those who saw my iPhone. Maybe it was just the crowd, but they had a lot of fun playing to the camera; it made them drop their guard almost immediately.
As for the camera itself, the tiny viewfinder doesn’t do much to help line up the picture, and the barely 1-inch screen doesn't give you a great idea of what you’re going to capture. Moreover, you have to wait until you can connect via USB-C and upload the photos to see how good (or how bad) they came out. But the delayed gratification was what really sold me on the Charmera. As a kid, I ran through my disposable camera’s film without any idea how the photos would come out. I wouldn’t know what to expect until I took the camera to the local Rite Aid to have it developed. The same is largely true with the Charmera.
I put it to the test on a recent trip to Mexico City, where I decided to use the Charmera to document my vacation. And while many of the photos ended up looking like a muddy mess, some came out pretty good and captured the detail (or lack of) I was looking for. In some ways, the Charmera gives the scene an ethereal look, as if stuck in time—something from 2026 that looks like it was shot in 1996.
Consider Me Charmed
At the end of the day, the Charmera helped me rediscover the joy of photography. Now, I’m eager to whip the camera out on the regular, and I’m excited to "develop" my photos at the end of the day. Even if the results are less than stellar, I’m happy that I finally found something that can recreate the fun of a disposable point-and-shoot camera without the expense.