Claire Black: ‘We all yearned for mixtapes that ran slow and had a tendency to get chewed’

What a pity they are no more. Actually, to be fair, they’ve been gone for a while – when you’ve got a 2GB memory card that can hold a gazillion images, audio and video, it kind of takes the pressure off “the moment” – it’s just that the company filing for bankruptcy protection last week made it official.

And with the threat of extinction comes the billowing waves of nostalgia. Remember everyone bemoaning the demise of Woolworths even though most had never set foot in it for decades, since they were last told off for stealing from the pick’n’mix? Or when Sony announced that the Walkman was shuffling off into the sunset? Suddenly, tiny mp3 players with their skip-free, endless battery-life, massive amounts of storage, bells and whistles seemed so cold, so clinical and we all yearned for mixtapes that ran slightly slow and had a tendency to get chewed.

But, of course, it passed.

I like gadgets so I’m not that eager to return to the days of having to hand spools (that’s what my dad called a camera film) into the chemist only to get them back a week later, transformed into 24 shiny photos that were always just a little bit less impressive than you thought they’d be. But still, there are things I miss.

If you never print photographs then you never put them in albums and so you never get to flick through them with pals or family, laugh your heads off and continue the argument that’s been going for two decades about who was doing/saying what when the offending snap was taken. A slideshow on iPhoto or Flickr just isn’t the same. They’re easy to share, but designed for solitary enjoyment.

Same goes for the delete button. Sometimes it’s the bad shots – that one where Auntie Jean is making her eyes go in different directions – that are the ones you really want, not the posed ones. I don’t think I ever ripped up a printed photo but I probably delete more than I keep. It’s a shame. I’ll probably regret it.

LAST week we learned that Jay-Z, prompted by the birth of his baby daughter, had decided to eschew the word “bitch”. Well done, sir, said some. Others not so much: “Before he had a daughter, didn’t he have a mother?” Either way, it doesn’t matter any more because the rapper’s representatives have revealed that the story’s not true. Jay-Z will happily continue to call women, presumably including his partner, Beyoncé, and his daughter, Blue Ivy Carter, bitches after all. Good to know.

IN NOT unconnected news, some joker who has no fear of a left hook from a lean, mean, seriously offended female fighting machine, has suggested women boxers should wear skirts while competing in the 2012 Olympics. Oh for the love of the Marquess of Queensberry. It made me think of Katharine Hepburn being asked by Barbara Walters how many skirts she owned. “I have one,” Hepburn answered. Incredulous, Walters asked again. Hepburn clarified: “I’ll wear it to your funeral.” K.O. «