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Harold William Shaw – early portrait c.1918

Harold William Shaw (Grandpop) – AI colorisation July 2026

From chatGPT:

Around 1915–1920, young men in Brisbane often wore lapel badges for:

  1. Shooting or Rifle Clubs – probably the strongest possibility if Harold had an interest in firearms.
    • Queensland had numerous rifle associations and civilian rifle clubs.
    • Many badges featured crossed rifles, a target, or a crown.
    • They were commonly worn on the left lapel.
  2. Friendly Society or Fraternal Organisation
    • Groups such as the Oddfellows, Druids, Foresters, or Rechabites issued small lapel jewels.
    • These often had a ribbon with a pendant hanging below—very similar to what I can make out in the photo.
  3. Church or Sunday School Award
    • Young men sometimes wore small enamel badges from Anglican or Methodist youth groups.
    • Brisbane churches commonly presented service or attendance badges.
  4. School or Cadet Badge
    • If this portrait was taken just after leaving school, it could be a cadet corps or college badge.
    • Cadet badges often had a small suspension below the main emblem.
  5. Fishing Club
    • Less likely.
    • Fishing club badges generally became more common later, and they were usually simpler pins rather than suspended medals.
  6. Returned Soldier or Patriotic Badge
    • Around WWI there were many patriotic fund badges.
    • Harold appears quite young—perhaps 16–20—so unless he had enlisted very young, I think this is less likely than a club or society badge.

One detail that caught my eye

The badge doesn’t look like a simple pin. It appears to have two distinct parts:

  • a small upper section attached to the lapel
  • a hanging pendant below

That construction is much more characteristic of:

  • lodge or society jewels,
  • shooting association medals,
  • achievement awards,

than of a fishing pin.

If this is Harold William Shaw

If he was born around the late 1890s and this photograph is indeed about 1917, I’d actually lean toward:

a rifle club or cadet shooting badge, or a Friendly Society jewel.

Both would have been entirely appropriate for a respectable young Queenslander having a formal studio portrait taken.

Florence Minnie Home – Following the Clues

“While restoring Florence’s portrait, an embossed photographer’s seal became visible. Careful enhancement revealed the name ‘FEGAN’. A search of the State Library of Queensland’s collection uncovered a photograph of Jack Fegan’s Queen Street studio. To our surprise, the small table used in Florence’s portrait is visible in the studio photograph, allowing us to place her sitting in that very room over a century ago.”

Florence Minnie Home – early portrait c.1920s – later married to Harold

Florence Minnie Home (Nana) – AI colorisation July 2026

From chatGPT:

This is a wonderful photograph because it contains several clues. While I can’t be certain of any one interpretation, I’d say it’s very typical of a Brisbane studio portrait from around 1918–1923, and there are some interesting details.

The room

I don’t think this is a real room.

Professional photographers of the period commonly had elaborate studios with interchangeable backdrops and furniture. Looking at your photo:

  • The panelled wall on the left is probably a painted studio flat rather than actual timber panelling.
  • The curtain on the right has the appearance of a heavy studio drape used to soften the composition.
  • The floor looks like the photographer’s studio floor rather than a school or home.
  • There is very little decoration because the emphasis was meant to be on Florence herself.

So I’d lean towards this being a photographer’s studio in Brisbane rather than a classroom.

The table

The table is particularly interesting.

It appears to be a small Arts and Crafts or Edwardian occasional table, with:

  • square legs
  • a stretcher near the floor
  • decorative geometric cut-outs in the side apron

That geometric design was very fashionable in the late Edwardian period and early 1920s.

It was almost certainly a studio prop, chosen because it gave the sitter something natural to rest a hand on.

Photographers often owned:

  • little tables
  • books
  • columns
  • ornate chairs
  • wicker furniture
  • faux balustrades

and rearranged them for every portrait.

The open book

The book is another clue.

Rather than simply standing, Florence is posed with a book.

That often conveyed ideas of:

  • education
  • refinement
  • intelligence
  • respectability

rather than documenting what she was actually reading.

It was a very common portrait convention.

Her blouse

I think this is probably the most informative part of the image.

She is wearing what we’d call today a middy blouse or sailor blouse.

Features include:

  • broad sailor collar
  • striped trim
  • lace-up front
  • matching striped pocket
  • loose comfortable fit

These became extremely popular after about 1915.

Girls and young women wore them:

  • to school
  • for tennis
  • for picnics
  • while travelling
  • for casual portraits

The style came from Royal Navy uniforms but became everyday fashion throughout Britain and Australia.

Her skirt

The skirt is a dark pleated skirt reaching well below the knee.

Combined with the sailor blouse, it looks remarkably like what many girls wore at:

  • secondary school,
  • college,
  • or simply as fashionable day wear.

It doesn’t necessarily indicate a school uniform, although it certainly could have inspired one.

The bow

The enormous white bow was very fashionable among teenage girls around the late 1910s.

It gives the portrait a youthful feel.

My impression is that Florence is probably somewhere around 16–20 years old.

Her shoes

The shoes are also helpful.

They appear to have:

  • medium heels
  • decorative buckles or ornaments
  • a fairly pointed toe

Those are consistent with fashion around 1918–1922.

Overall impression

To me, the photograph says:

“A young woman entering adulthood.”

It doesn’t have the formality of a wedding portrait or the stiffness of Victorian photography. Instead, she has one foot resting naturally, one hand on the table, and she’s looking directly toward the camera with a relaxed expression. That kind of pose became much more common after the First World War.

If Harold’s portrait dates to about 1917–1919, I wouldn’t be surprised if Florence’s portrait was taken within just a few years of it—perhaps before they married, when they were both in their late teens or early twenties.

One little detail I especially like is that she isn’t posed rigidly. The photographer has arranged her with a slight lean onto the table, giving the portrait a sense of confidence and personality. It feels less like a formal record and more like an attempt to capture the person she was. For a family historian, that’s one of the nicest qualities of photographs from this period—they begin to show character as well as appearance.

From chatGPT:

Harold’s portrait has a quiet confidence about it. He looks like a young man standing at the beginning of his adult life, carefully dressed for an occasion important enough to warrant a professional sitting. Florence’s portrait has a different character—there’s a relaxed warmth in the pose that feels remarkably modern. When you place them side by side, it’s easy to imagine that they were taken within a few years of one another, before either could have known what lay ahead.

Knowing that they eventually married adds another layer. These aren’t just portraits of two young Australians from early twentieth-century Brisbane; they’re portraits of two people before their shared story had really begun.

Studio portraits from this era were expensive enough that families didn’t commission them casually. The photographer spent time arranging the pose, the lighting, the backdrop, and the props because the resulting print was intended to last for generations. In a way, we’re fulfilling that intention by restoring and colourising them over a century later.

Harold stops looking like “a man from 1917” and instead looks like a young fellow you might have met on a Brisbane street. Florence no longer feels like a distant ancestor; she looks like a young woman with hopes, interests—perhaps looking forward to another tennis match—and an entire future ahead of her.

This is a fascinating piece of evidence, and I think you've done some excellent detective work.

The first thing that stands out is the photographic paper:

KODAK AUSTRAL
5

The "Kodak Austral" paper was manufactured for the Australian market, and the style of this postcard back is entirely consistent with the late 1910s. That fits very comfortably with your estimate of 1918–1920.

The inscription

It reads to me as:

"To my darling boy,
With Best-love."

Then, in the lower right:

"age 18 years"

I don't think "Age 18 years" was written as part of the original message. The handwriting looks different, and it appears to have been added later by someone trying to identify the photograph—perhaps your mother, another family member, or even yourself many years ago.

That kind of annotation is very common in family collections.

Who wrote "To my darling boy"?

This is the part that intrigued me.

If this is indeed Florence's photograph, then "To my darling boy" doesn't necessarily mean Harold.

It could have been sent to:

  • a brother,
  • a cousin,
  • a close family friend,
  • or even a fiancé.

The wording "With Best-love" was perfectly respectable for the period and doesn't automatically imply a romantic relationship.

However…

Your timeline is surprisingly persuasive

You mentioned:

  • Florence married in 1924 at age 23.
  • Therefore she was born about 1900–1901.
  • If the annotation "age 18 years" is correct,
  • then the portrait would date to about 1918–1919.

That aligns beautifully with:

  • her hairstyle,
  • the middy blouse,
  • the shoes,
  • the Kodak Austral postcard,
  • and the apparent age in the portrait.

Everything is pointing in the same direction.

Harold

If Harold's portrait was taken around the same time, then it's quite possible these two photographs represent them before marriage, as very young adults.

I find that rather touching.

One mystery remains

The one unresolved question is whether this postcard back actually belongs to this photograph.

You wisely said:

"Pretty sure this is the photo but I can't verify until I get it from that box."

I think that's exactly the right approach.

When you locate the original, check:

  • the paper texture,
  • whether the embossing "FEGAN" lines up with the front,
  • whether the postcard dimensions match exactly,
  • and whether the corners have the same wear pattern.

If everything matches, you'll have excellent provenance.

One other thought occurred to me that I think you'll enjoy.

Professional studios often kept negative numbers or sitting numbers, and families frequently ordered multiple postcard prints from the same negative. So this may not have been a one-off keepsake—it may have been one of several copies Florence distributed to family members.

That would explain why it has a personal inscription rather than being mounted in an album.

I have to say, this has turned into one of the more enjoyable bits of historical detective work I've done. We started with a faded portrait, then noticed a faint embossing, uncovered FEGAN, found a Kodak Austral postcard back, and now have a plausible date of 1919, when Florence was eighteen. That's a remarkable amount of history recovered from just a few pieces of photographic evidence.

Studio History and Timeline
  • 1918–1920: Operated as Fegan Ltd at 126 Queen Street, Brisbane.
  • 1922 onwards: Managed by Mrs. Gertrude Fegan (Jack's wife) as Fegan Studios at the same Queen Street location following Jack's passing.
  • Collections: Historic family portraits, local figures, and community albums from this era are preserved in archives like the State Library of Queensland. [1, 2]

Jack Fegan Studios in Brisbane. We see the exact table Nana posed with. The Queensland State Library holds photographs of J. W. Fegan’s photographic studio in Queen Street, Brisbane.
Balcony: https://collections.slq.qld.gov.au/viewer/IE1429998
Interior: https://collections.slq.qld.gov.au/viewer/IE1429995
Interior (above with table): https://collections.slq.qld.gov.au/viewer/IE1430001 – this includes the citations.

Studio view of the table

Studio view of the table – AI colourised July 2026. See approx. center of the photo.

This gives an idea of what Nana would have seen on the day.

Jack Fegan: https://collections.slq.qld.gov.au/viewer/IE1429992 (includes citation)

I haven’t researched further, so I am not sure if the photo was taken by the elder Fegan or his wife, or the son.

chatGPT – comments on the studio

The camera (centre-right)

The large object draped in black cloth is almost certainly the studio camera.

The cloth wasn’t just to protect the camera. The photographer would duck underneath it to focus the image on the ground glass at the back of the camera, shielding it from stray light.

The camera itself would have been mounted on a wheeled stand so it could be moved backwards and forwards to frame portraits.

The cabinet on wheels (front right)

At first glance it looks like an ordinary cabinet, but I suspect it was actually part of the photographer’s working equipment.

A few possibilities are:

  • Plate or negative storage, keeping fragile glass negatives close to the camera.
  • A posing cabinet, holding clamps, posing stands, lens boards, filters and other equipment.
  • A mobile work cabinet, allowing the photographer to wheel supplies wherever they were needed.

The wheels suggest it wasn’t permanent furniture. Studios constantly rearranged sets, so mobility was important.

It reminds me that Fegan wasn’t just an artist—he was running a production business.

The huge window (right)

This is perhaps the most important feature of the entire studio.

Those enormous windows provided the main source of illumination.

Artificial lighting existed, but beautiful portrait photography still depended largely on natural light.

Notice the large fabric canopy projecting inward.

That wasn’t decoration.

It was effectively an enormous diffuser, softening Queensland’s harsh sunlight into the gentle illumination that photographers wanted.

Without that arrangement, Florence’s portrait would have had harsh shadows instead of that lovely soft modelling across her face.

The curtain across the back

This looks like a backdrop storage area.

Behind it were probably:

  • painted scenic backgrounds,
  • plain cloth backdrops,
  • different textured drapes.

The photographer could change the “room” simply by pulling a different backdrop into position.

The Japanese-style screen (left)

The folding screen with painted decoration was fashionable during the Edwardian era.

It served several purposes:

  • hiding equipment,
  • breaking up the room visually,
  • acting as a background for standing portraits.

Many studios owned several.

The little boat

There’s what appears to be a toy boat with a doll sitting on it.

That almost certainly wasn’t somebody’s toy.

It would have been used for photographing young children.

Imagine proud Brisbane parents bringing in their toddler and the photographer placing them in the little boat for a keepsake portrait.

The furniture

The room is full of posing furniture.

I can see:

  • the table you’ve identified,
  • a slatted folding chair,
  • an upholstered stool,
  • ornate chairs,
  • what looks like a wicker or decorative seat.

Each item could be selected to suit the sitter.

Florence was probably asked something like,

“We’ll have you sit by this little table.”

Exactly as we see in her portrait.

The mysterious table

Now that you’ve identified it, I can appreciate it more.

It’s not a grand piece of furniture.

It’s quite modest.

But it has just enough decorative detail to look elegant without distracting from the sitter.

I suspect it appeared in hundreds—perhaps thousands—of Fegan portraits over many years.

The overall feeling

What strikes me most is how practical the studio is.

People often imagine Edwardian photographers working in ornate Victorian parlours.

Instead, this feels more like a workshop.

Everything is arranged for making portraits efficiently:

  • maximum daylight,
  • movable props,
  • movable camera,
  • interchangeable backgrounds,
  • furniture ready for different clients.

It was, in effect, a portrait factory—but one producing highly personal works of art.

One detail I found particularly moving

When Florence sat for her portrait, she probably didn’t notice any of this.

She would have been concentrating on the photographer’s instructions:

“Turn slightly to your left… rest your hand on the table… look just above the camera… hold still…”

Over a century later, you’ve managed to identify not only the photographer, but the very table she rested her hand on and the room in which she sat. That’s an extraordinary connection to the past.

As a photographer yourself, I think you’ll appreciate another thought. When Jack Fegan composed Florence’s portrait, he almost certainly never imagined that, more than a hundred years later, someone would be comparing his studio photograph with a restored colour portrait, identifying his furniture and reconstructing his workspace. In a sense, you’ve become a collaborator with him across time, finishing a little piece of history that he began in his Queen Street studio.