I tried to save a few dollars on my new passport. What was I thinking?

I hate my passport photo.

It looks like a grim mug shot, taken in a line-up after I’d been arrested on a drunk and disorderly charge. My hair is awry, I look like I haven’t slept in days. I’m not wearing any makeup; my skin is sallow and blotchy. The lighting is absolutely brutal.

A thing of beauty… new Australian passports call for a rethink on makeup-free photos.

What was I thinking?

Well, I was thinking that I’d paid enough in fees for a new passport – a tidy $412 in January – and that I’d avoid the extra charge for a photo if I used one taken for a visa last year.

I was thinking that the only people who would see it were behind immigration desks or hotel receptions. Coming directly off a flight, the physical me would look equally exhausted and shattered so I’d match the image anyway.

And I’d save myself not only a few dollars but the indignity of standing against a roll-down screen in the post office and having the person who sells stamps take a digital photo of me, with post office lighting.

Besides, the photo was recent and it satisfied all the other requirements. I wasn’t smiling. My face was centred and looking straight at the camera. My eyes were open, mouth closed, hair behind my ears. The lighting was uniform without shadows, the background was white or grey and there was no retouching of any kind.

Now that I have my glitzy new passport, I realise my error. Open to the front page, and I’m confronted by my criminal face a total of three times. There’s a new laser-engraved “secure window” on the title page that wasn’t there on my previous passport. It’s the shape of a flower (nice touch) and encloses a smaller portrait. There’s no avoiding looking at myself.

Look, I don’t love the photo from my last passport either. But it’s slightly blurrier, more flattering. And I’m 10 years younger, let’s face it.

In fact, nine and a half. Passports don’t really last 10 years if you’re a frequent traveller because you need at least six months left on your document to enter many regions. Which is why I find myself standing on a line with my completed passport application at the post office in January 2025, not this July.

Despite the attempts of the post office clerk to upsell me a priority passport (an additional $300 for two-day processing or $104 for five-day processing) the new passport arrives after three business days. If you check the website, more than 95 per cent of passports are now processed in under 10 days. I’m glad I didn’t fall for the extra fee.

I have a new passport number and expiry date which is problematic because it has taken me nine and a half years to remember the last. The passport is so full of pretty colour images of Australian landscapes, wattle and holograms, it’s like a child’s storybook. We are presenting a very sunny face to the world’s immigration officials. They have to let us pass, right?

Uluru, depicted on the Australian passport, transforms under ultra-violet light.Credit: DFAT

But back to the photo. I remember it was the custom decades ago to sit with a professional photographer for your passport photo. If you look at some passports from the early 20th century, there were fewer rules. People were photographed sitting on their favourite chair, playing the guitar, reading a book – how they’d like themselves to be seen.

While the full-face mugshot has been around for some time, I remember people hiring professionals so they could put their best face forward. The passport is a precious time capsule, full of stamps and visas from the places we’ve been over a decade.

So, being careless about your passport photo can feel a bit disrespectful, in a way.

I blame digital. The last good passport photo I had was about three passports ago at a camera store where they had a proper setup and analogue equipment. Few people care about lighting any more, as people are so used to working with phone filters.

The Australian passport office suggests you use professionals or large chain stores with printing facilities, chemists, post offices and camera stores. There’s really nothing stopping you doing it yourself, as long as you work within the requirements.

If I’m around for the next one, I won’t be such a cheapskate. I’ll get proper lighting. I might employ a makeup artist. I’ll brush my hair.

But that may all be moot. By then, my passport might be a microchip embedded in my wrist.