After a career in fashion photography, I thought I had it all figured out
Redefining my photography future
What do you think when you hear or read the words fashion photographer?
I’m honestly very curious about your answer. For me, in the past, this wording makes me think of a man; well dressed, with a cigarette in his mouth, telling the model to give me more. I also pictured a massive photography stage, a lot of people, some with enormous egos and prima donna (this expression is again another horrible gift of the patriarchy), but after the chaos, the shouting, a very cool image, that tells a story, an emotion, a moment.
Fashion Photography is what I do to pay my rent and bills, despite talking more about street photography here on Substack and on Youtube. I thought it was the right moment to share more insight about this path that I chose to follow over 10 years ago. Let me tell you something straight: you can forget the glamorous aspect, unless you are an extremely well known photographer that works by commission with big magazines and brands. For the rest of us, we aim to arrive to that level at some point in our lives. I remember my sister told me that one day I will work with Anna Wintour. Bless her, thinking that arriving to Anna would be easy (and now impossible, considering she is leaving Vogue).
I’m thinking a lot recently about my decision to work in fashion, where it started, but most important, why. When I was at the very beginning of my career, I organised editorials with my talented friends, and we worked all together in my tiny studio to shoot what we thought was a great piece of art. For context, I did not live in a big city, I was living in a town of 6000, very, extremely far from the concept of fashion itself. These days were very creative, because we had to fully collaborate together. My partner of the time was helping me a lot by creating set designs with her illustrations, as well as keeping me positive for the outcome. Some of the works we have done have been also published in some magazines, and I was over the moon, thinking that these publications will open doors for my future.
They don’t, but it was a good boost for the ego at least. At the time, I was not on Instagram so I missed the boat in that sense. I was sharing basically on Facebook and that’s it. I was completely missing the marketing part of the photography business, but again, this is a lesson that I learned later.
My school in fashion photography was all about having too many books of other fashion photographers and studying them. I had horrible lights at the very beginning, but I made them work. It was also a good kick to learn how to use photoshop. If I was not able to achieve something with what I had, I had to try in postproduction. I had some massive faillures and terrible, horrendous editing, but I think it’s part of the initiation.
I wanted to be recognised at the time, I wanted to create just for the purpose of creating something that tells a story. It was not about the clothes at all, it was about the emotions and the feeling.
Fast forward to moving to London, I had to face reality quickly: editorial doesn’t really pay, it’s difficult to get commissioned by a magazine, it’s difficult to interact with model agencies if they don’t know you. Basically, you hit your head 1000 times against an iron door. And it’s hard dealing with so many rejections. I think London, or any big city for a person that is coming from a small town, is the ultimate test in resilience. There is nothing wrong if you decide to come back to your hometown, don’t get me wrong; you tried something that you did not know, and this is very brave.
To stay in London I have to compromise my life completely: affections, my dogs, time, a comfy house, good food (important), space. Everything. You may think I was very confident in myself to decide to still follow this path. I was not at all. I was not sure of the outcome, still not sure to be honest. I’ve definitely lost the Disney-like vision that at the end I will achieve my goals. Honestly the majority of the time I’m like, what am I doing? But It’s hard to stop. I’m no one in the industry, but I’m still working, doing some interesting projects time to time, meeting creative people, sharing ideas and dreams with them.
The fire that was leading me to move to London has changed, the destination has changed, my aim is still some kind of recognition, but it’s not my main goal. Honestly, I would like to live stress free, without sending too many emails per day, contacting people, reminding them that I exist in the same universe they live, negotiating the correct amount of pay for the effort I put into each job. But this is a utopia. I think everything is just related to the fact that I like to shoot. I like the connection that I can create on set, trying and experimenting with new things. And again the clothes are enhancing the images, but the focus (when I’m creating something for myself) is all about the storytelling, just like it was when I started.
I can say that I have achieved what I wanted to do in life, but the expression fashion photographer is a little bit limiting, personally. Just photographer fits me better, personally. It covers more of what I actually do.
And now, after all the grind, all the sacrifices I've made, AI is just barreling into the creative industry. It's already making its mark on how fast we can produce things and what we can deliver. It's genuinely a little scary. I honestly think that in the next 5 to 8 years, the fashion industry as we know it will be completely different. I mean, right now, even on a small e-commerce shoot, you might see up to six people involved. I reckon in the future, it'll be a maximum of two: one person writing the perfect prompt and another just finessing the final picture.
I'm at a point in my career where, to be frank, I don't see a super bright future ahead, at least not in the traditional sense. But then again, maybe it's just another challenge, another push to reinvent myself – kinda like Madonna on her "Re-Invention World Tour," you know? I'm not gonna lie, I'm a little bit freaked out about what's going to happen, and I'm already deep in thought about my next moves.
So, yeah, it's a weird time. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that things always change. This AI wave is huge, and it means we, as creatives, need to really think about how we adapt. It's not just about learning new tech, it's about figuring out where our unique human touch still fits in. I'm not sure what the answer is yet, but I'm ready to find out.
The saddest thing about AI is that it goes after all the creative professions that are simply fun and rewarding. Over a decade ago I left a career in translation, because the writing was on the wall for that already. I moved to IT, tech writing specifically, and the reality has caught up again with me, and I am frankly terrified with the lack of perspectives that AI brings. I will be writing prompts if I keep my job at all. It is just sad. The speed at which AI develops and grows is simply staggering, and it is difficult to predict what will happen within a year, which is a bleak outlook for our lives.
I agree with a lot of what’s being said in the comments here and your post resonates with me big time. I have a lot of very hardline opinions on AI as a career artist, simply, I think it’s a pox. That said, the only way out is through and it’s pushed me and many others to go even harder with what we do best. Use our hands and minds to create the way only we can, prove over and over again that AI simply cannot produce anything that feels genuinely human made.