As it happens I have a couple more photos that perfectly illustrate his point. To begin with, there's this extremely glamorous image of my great-uncle, Harold Bridges- my grandmother's brother (previously seen as a small boy in Easter finery)- as a soldier of the Great War. For those who take an interest in such things I believe he's sporting the cap badge of the Queen's Royal West Surrey Regiment.
I can't tell you much about Harold. He died in his fifties, of something complicated, and his younger sister Joan is listed on the death certificate as next of kin. He never married and from the not-in-front-of-the-children way in which he was spoken of by the adults I've always assumed he was gay. At the time of his death he was working as an estate agent's clerk.
And then there's this, my grandfather photographed by The Hollywood studio (no less) in Bogota sometime in the early 1920s. Much Vaseline has been applied to the lens and if the result isn't the spitting image of Valentino or Ramon Novarro it's not for want of trying...
Yes, it's a bit blurry, but then so is the original. Blurry is a deliberate aesthetic choice.
What was my grandfather doing in Bogota? I don't really know. Overseeing some engineering project or selling heavy machinery I suppose. He was newly married and a rising star in his profession.