the red sweater woman

Isn’t it fascinating that we go about each day not knowing who half the people are around us, or probably even more? Coming from a small town and now living in a fairly small town, I know that there are situations where you can know everyone, or most of the people around you. From someones house, to their car, grandma, dog, or even basic routines. Like, “Oh, there’s Natalie again getting her daily coffee.” Because everyone knows I spend way too much money on coffee each week.

But I find it strange that apart from small town living, we don’t have a clue who the people are around us. We go about our everyday lives and are fine without knowing who people are. I met a stranger this past week, and at first I thought I was okay with it, but quickly after, I realized I wasn’t. I met who I call “the woman in the red sweater” and it just happened by chance.

I was sitting in a coffee shop downtown where I live, drinking my cuban latte (per usual), daydreaming about my photography assignment that was due in the upcoming days. The assignment didn’t have any instructions. All my professor wanted us to do was take a photo of anything we were passionate about or that we liked. So there I was, sitting and wondering, what the heck am I going to take a picture of?

At this point I was simply brainstorming for ideas and asking what I’m passionate about, what I want to see in this photograph. Then, suddenly, I looked to my right and saw this elderly woman in a bright red sweater just sitting comfortably, reading a newspaper, drinking coffee and eating oranges. It was in that moment I saw the woman in the red sweater. Within seconds, I knew this was it. This person is exactly what I want to take a picture of. I couldn’t comprehend my fascination for this woman. She was so interesting to me, from her red shirt, to her glasses, black scarf and even the way she presented herself when she was just sitting reading a newspaper. I knew I needed to capture her beauty.

It took me about 5 minutes before I got the courage to go talk to her. I started out by telling her my name, kneeling next to her table so we were speaking face-to-face. She looked at me back with such joy and just said, “Hello.” After this I simply explained to her about my photography class and asked her if she would let me take a few photos of her for it. She kindly agreed. I excitedly went back to my table, got my camera out, put on the lens and went back to the red sweater woman.

When I came back to her table I talked in little phrases so she would become more comfortable with my presence. After all, we were completely strangers to each other.

I decided to sit at the chair directly across from her, so the field of view was as if I was a person sitting across from her. I wanted the scene to be natural. I wanted to capture exactly as I saw her from across the room. After I tested out my camera and got the exposure I was looking for, I told her I was ready. At this moment I knew she was enjoying this. I could tell she loved being photographed and was actually having fun with this, and so was I.

After a few shots she asked me how she should model for the camera. I loved this because it confirmed my thoughts about her loving being photographed. I told her to just act like I wasn’t even there, after all, her natural presence was what drew me to wanting to photograph her. She nailed it. She simply went back to reading her newspaper and looking around the coffee shop and I was capturing every bit of it. I could see the outcome of each shot I took on my camera and it was exactly what I had envisioned, but even better. I was ecstatic about all of it. The red sweater looked outstanding on her. When I showed the red shirt woman some of the photos on my camera, she instantly smiled and commented at how wonderful she looked in the red sweater. This was when I named her “the red sweater woman”. I instantly responded, “I agree.”

After I showed the red sweater woman some photos that I had taken, we said our goodbyes and I went back to my table across the coffee shop. I immediately popped my SD card into my computer so I could checkout the photos I had just taken of her. They were all magnificent. I’m sure if people were looking at me during the time I was editing and looking at these photos I would’ve had a big grin on my face. I was so happy with not only my work, but that I had decided to take the chance at talking to a stranger. Taking photos and talking with the red sweater woman was the best part of my day. I was genuinely happy.

It wasn’t until about 15 minutes after I had departed ways from the red sweater woman and went back to my table that she had gotten up and left. I remember watching her walkout the door. I didn’t know how to feel. This complete stranger made me feel so happy, and then she was just gone. At first I was okay with not knowing anything about the red sweater woman, but later that evening I felt sort of sad about it. Truth is, I didn’t even know her name, or if she was even from around the area. I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again, and I still don’t. This beautiful person who was a stranger to me had made me so happy, and I didn’t know what to feel about it.

I later came to the conclusion that it was okay. It was okay that I didn’t know this woman’s life story, or what her car looks like, who her family is, what her name is, or where she once worked, because sometimes there’s beauty in not knowing all of it. That’s life. Although it took me a few days, I realized that sometimes not knowing anything at all about a person is so fascinating. Even though I will probably never know the red sweater woman’s story, I know that she will always have a place in my heart as the kind stranger I got to photograph, but more importantly, the woman in the red sweater who was my friend for 15 minutes.

I’m hoping that I might see the red sweater woman sometime again. I’m not sure when that will be, or if it even will be, but maybe our routines will bring us together once again. I can only hope that she attends the coffee shop we met at one more time and we get to speak once again.

All the best,

Natalie