The camera you used to leave on every table.

Before their first shot a guest types their phone number, matched against your guest list. Anyone on it is greeted by name and tied to the person check-in already knows. Anyone who isn't — a plus-one, a vendor — gives their own name instead, or is turned away. Your call.

The roll counts against that number, not the phone or the browser. Close the tab, borrow a device, open a private window — the shots left are the shots left. It's what makes a limit mean anything on a night when phones get handed around.

Seven stocks, swiped through in the viewfinder: hard on-camera flash, two colour negatives, grainy black and white, a soft dreamy frame, golden hour and sepia. Over them, six effects — film grain, light leaks that fall differently every frame, vignette, cheap-lens fringing, a date stamp and a polaroid border.

What the guest frames is what gets saved — the viewfinder and the photo run the same grading code, so nobody finds out at the end of the night that the picture they composed isn't the one they got. The whole look switches off in one tap.

Each shot lands in your gallery as it's taken, labelled with whoever took it. Filter to one guest, see how much of their roll is left, download or delete anything — and hand out a fresh roll if someone burns through theirs before the speeches.

They go into the same gallery your photographer uploads to, so they're face-matched along with everything else. A shot of a table the photographer never reached still finds the people in it, in their own private, login-free gallery.