Wedding photo crushing service is 'selling like hotcakes', most of the customers are women

A factory in Langfang, Hebei Province, China, is adding new meaning to the term “broken hearts.” On any given morning, the floors here are lined with photos of smiling couples on their wedding day or some other romantic occasion. But then, one by one, the photos are sprayed with black paint and fed into an industrial shredder, where they are shredded into tiny pieces and used to generate electricity.

Today, the photos are arranged in 25 piles, each with a scheduled date for destruction. Each pile might contain photo albums as thick as dictionaries, a red metal box filled with torn photos, a large banner with the bride and groom's names engraved with a drawing of a heart and the words "Welcome to our wedding."

Liu Wei, the company's owner, started the love memento shredding service last spring after a friend agreed to let him use his factory and machinery, which had previously been used to destroy documents, auto parts and expired food for businesses.

Liu Wei said requests for shredded wedding photos account for 80% of his business.

The machine that crushes love mementos. Photo: Sixth Tone

Most of the photographs were large, the kind typically hung on walls, framed in metal or wood. Some were life-sized. Some looked like they had been taken a long time ago, but most were recent, showing couples holding hands on spiral staircases in European-style castles, sitting on chairs embroidered with dragons and phoenixes, or standing under coconut trees on tropical beaches.

There are also photo albums recording the stages and milestones of a happy marriage: wedding day, pregnancy, childbirth, toddlers... However, these once cherished memories are now just a pile of trash waiting to be shredded.

The process of shredding these memorabilia in the giant shredder is naturally meant to act as a form of pacification for customers struggling with strong post-breakup emotions. Many of the photos sent to the factory show clear signs of previous attempts to destroy them by the owner. In some, the man’s face has been blackened, repeatedly scratched, or scrawled with a drawing of a turtle—a form of insult.

Acrylic wedding photos are popular with Chinese couples because of their durability. They are fireproof, cannot be cut with a knife, and will not shatter even if someone steps on them. Many are framed with large sheets of glass, which cannot be put into a shredder because of the dangerous shards.

Liu’s business partner, Yang, once had a piece of glass fly into his forehead while crushing a customer’s photo, leaving a deep gash. Since then, the factory has disposed of framed photos by placing them in cardboard boxes and smashing them with sledgehammers.

“With these big pictures, you can’t just take them out and throw them in the neighborhood trash,” Liu said. “A lot of men might not care, but women definitely will. Especially in small towns, people will gossip.”

In rural areas, people have the habit of picking up unused items to reuse for home repairs. Made from such sturdy materials, your wedding photos can easily be turned into a neighbor's fence. If you're not careful, you and your ex-spouse could end up hanging in someone else's pig pen.

These once cherished memories are now just trash waiting to be shredded. Photo: Sixth Tone

Let go

A chubby, bespectacled, and in his 40s, Liu used to work in the pharmaceutical industry. He started advertising his souvenir shredding service on social media last March. He received orders in the first month. At first, he had fewer than 10 orders a month, but after six months, demand skyrocketed. To date, more than 6,000 people have inquired about his service, and he has destroyed more than 700 batches of wedding photos. Liu charges by weight, with each customer spending an average of more than 100 yuan (US$14).

He estimates that about 70% of the people who contact him are women, although this is sometimes difficult to determine because some WeChat users hide their true gender or use anonymous accounts. The vast majority of those who ask about his services don’t share much. They just ask for a price, then send the goods via courier.

Occasionally, clients would share their stories, usually no more than three sentences. Liu used his phone as an example: “Divorced, still grieving, currently hospitalized.” Occasionally, clients would mention other situations, such as infidelity or conflict with a spouse. But Liu never asked further questions or made judgments. His responses were usually emojis followed by encouraging statements like, “I believe things will get better,” or “Marriage is for happiness, but divorce is for happiness, too.”

Liu found that people who were truly determined to destroy their mementos tended to be quiet, while those who shared more information were often hesitant and looking for more encouragement.

There have been three instances where Liu has had to resend intact wedding photos because she didn’t receive confirmation before canceling. One client reconciled with her partner, another changed her mind for no apparent reason, and the third was simply a mistake—the client accidentally sent her parents’ wedding photos.

To date, more than 6,000 people have inquired about Liu's services, and he has destroyed more than 700 batches of wedding photos. Photo: Sixth Tone

A few days earlier, a man in his 40s had sent Liu a photo of his deceased wife, along with photos of their married life. A few days later, he called to ask if he could send her some of her clothes and handbags. The man felt sad looking at the mementos, but he didn’t want to sell them. As they talked on the phone, Liu asked the man to list each item. Halfway through, the man burst into tears.

Recently, a young man asked to shred the belongings his ex-girlfriend left behind after she dumped him, including a towel and a flashlight. Liu also received some items from deceased pets from customers.

When he first started his job, he was moved every time he saw a floor covered in wedding photos. “I don’t think single people would want to get married after seeing this,” he said, pointing to the ground. But over time, Liu and his colleagues became almost indifferent to it all. They had crushed too many happy memories.

Still, receiving photos of children makes them feel uncomfortable. Liu said orders involving children's photos have been increasing recently, although he couldn't explain why.

There are albums of children of different ages and albums of family photos. Liu said he struggles emotionally every time he has to spray paint a child’s face and put the photo in the shredder. “I have kids,” he said.

Overall, Liu feels his business helps people let go of the past. In videos posted on social media platform Douyin, he welcomes people to express their emotions through his service. He even films the shredding process and shares the video with customers to add to the “saying goodbye” feeling.

In fact, one female client wanted her belongings crushed on the day her divorce was finalized. She wanted to mark the occasion by watching a video of her wedding photos being crushed to pieces.

Photo: Sixth Tone

Personalized service

Liu has recently added personalization services beyond simply tossing items into the shredder. Customers can write or record their own farewell messages to be read aloud or played as their items are shredded.

He also offers private sessions, where clients can rent a space for two hours and hang all their photos in the factory to say goodbye, complete with a host and a few workers as witnesses. But so far, none of Liu’s 700 clients have opted for either service.

However, five customers have requested to attend the shredding of their memorabilia. Some simply want to save on shipping costs by having their items delivered, while others want to personally throw them into the shredder.

A woman drove up to Liu in a Mercedes and destroyed a large box of souvenirs. Liu filmed a video of her, dubbing it “Good Days.”

The wedding dress could not be put into the crusher. Photo: Sixth Tone

Most clients cut ties with Liu as soon as the job was done. One sent him a message on WeChat saying, “I may have to block you because your username has the word ‘wedding photo’ in it and I don’t want my (current) husband to misunderstand.” Another wrote, “I hope this is the first and last time we work together.”

Eventually, the scrap paper left over from the photos will be used to generate electricity. When the accumulated scrap paper reaches a certain weight, the plant will ship it to a nearby biofuel power plant, where it will be thrown into a large pit with household waste that can hold up to 100,000 tons. Liu visited the plant last summer, but the sight of his trash mixed with a pit full of rotting food made him so uncomfortable that he left.

At the end of the day, Liu had finished his orders but left one item untouched: a white wedding dress. It lay crumpled on the ground like a fluffy white cloud. A woman had sent it here after finalizing her divorce that morning. Because the dress might get caught in the shredder, Liu planned to send it directly to the biofuel power plant. When the workers left, he picked it up and hung it up.

The dress that once symbolized the intense energy between two lovers will soon create a completely different kind of energy.

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Source: https://giadinh.suckhoedoisong.vn/dich-vu-nghien-nat-anh-cuoi-dat-nhu-tom-tuoi-khach-hang-phan-lon-la-phu-nu-172240327091749172.htm