Photography gear can be seriously baffling when you're starting. I remember spending hours looking at tripods, completely confused by the differences. Some looked identical but were priced hundreds of dollars apart. What I didn’t know was that some tripods are sold as two separate parts—legs and head, which explained some of the cost variation. Later, once I started to get the hang of gear, it became harder not to fall into gear lust with every new release of a camera body or lens. That temptation is real and persistent. A friend of mine, early in my photography journey, shared a bit of advice that helped me a lot. He said I should only buy a piece of gear if I was certain I could make back the cost at least four or five times through income, or if I had rented it more than four times already. I haven’t followed that advice perfectly, but it did shape my approach to investing in photography equipment. It taught me to be deliberate rather than impulsive with purchases.
Building My Photography Gear List Over Time
I've been working in photography in one way or another for the last five years. Over the past year and a half, it has been my full-time job. Naturally, I’ve accumulated a lot of equipment over time. But here’s the truth: I didn’t start with much. For the first two years, I used a single camera body and one decent lens. That was it. A lot of my earliest work was shot on my iPhone, which has a surprisingly capable camera if you want to master composition and framing before investing heavily in technical gear. Indeed, quality gear can significantly improve image quality, but it’s also true that creative, stunning work can be produced with very basic tools.
Camera Bodies and Choosing a Brand
I first learned photography using my then-boyfriend's entry-level Nikon DSLR. When it came time to buy my camera, I switched to Canon and have remained loyal ever since. Right now, I use the Canon 5D Mark III as my backup and the Canon 5D Mark IV as my primary camera body. When I was weighing my upgrade options, I spent a lot of time reading camera reviews and specs. I consulted technical reviews, pored over spec comparisons, and devoured blog posts from countless photographers. But in the end, the deciding factor was something more emotional than technical. I realized that the photos I admired most were usually shot on Canon cameras. I would browse through images on photography forums and, almost instinctively, check the EXIF data of the ones I loved. Time and time again, Canon would be listed as the brand. That swayed my decision. Maybe it was a coincidence. Some studies even show that people can’t reliably tell the difference between brands in blind tests. But for me, it was enough to go with Canon.
My first semi-professional camera was the Canon 7D. Even though my path to choosing Canon was somewhat subjective, I’ve grown to genuinely appreciate the ergonomics and usability of their systems. I can quickly adjust settings in manual mode and shoot with ease. Nikon frustrated me with its ISO adjustment friction, although I’ll admit the Nikon D850 is a truly impressive camera. I wasn’t a fan of Sony's mirrorless experience, even though the size and image quality are top-notch. Fuji came close to winning me over, but ultimately I stuck with Canon.
Today, most modern cameras produce incredible image quality. Especially since we now consume most of our images on small screens, minor technical differences between brands don’t carry as much weight as they once did. I always recommend renting gear before purchasing. A week-long trip is usually enough to know if a camera feels right in your hands.
Storage Essentials: SD Cards and Hard Drives
Storage might not seem exciting, but it's one of the most important investments you’ll make. Nothing is worse than losing work because of a bad SD card or an unreliable hard drive. A large part of my earlier work involved video, which meant I needed fast, reliable cards. I’ve always used SanDisk Extreme Pro SD and CompactFlash cards. They’ve never let me down. I’ve never lost data with them, and I’ve never had corrupted files. If you’re just starting and tempted to save a few dollars by choosing cheaper cards, don’t do it. Spend the extra amount. It’s a small price to pay for the security of your work. Also, avoid Lexar cards. In my experience, they’ve been more trouble than they’re worth. And if your card starts acting glitchy, replace it immediately.
For external storage, I highly recommend LaCie rugged drives. I’ve had bad experiences with countless other brands—drives that failed unexpectedly or got corrupted after light use. My collection includes failed drives from Seagate, Buffalo, and Western Digital. LaCie has been the most reliable, especially when traveling or working on location. Beyond physical storage, I use cloud storage as a secondary backup method. I have a cloud-based business account with 2TB of space and another 1TB with a photo editing software suite. It may seem redundant, but redundancy is critical when it comes to backing up years of work. Once a year, I do a full archive and organization session. Although since I switched to cloud-based editing tools, I archive less aggressively.
Lens Selection and Its Impact on Image Quality
If you already have a decent camera body, the next biggest factor influencing your image quality will be your lenses. I currently have six lenses: a Sigma 35mm for Canon, a Sigma 50mm, a Zeiss 15mm, a Canon 100-400mm, a Canon 24-70mm, and a Canon 40mm pancake lens. I originally planned to sell my Sigma 35mm and Zeiss 15mm to switch to the Canon 16-35mm. After renting the 16-35mm for a project, I fell in love with its versatility. However, after much thought, I decided not to sell my primes. I’ve had the Sigma 35mm for years and have developed a strong attachment to it. It has served me well and continues to perform consistently.
The Canon 24-70mm, which I ultimately purchased instead of the 16-35mm, has also been a fantastic addition to my gear. It’s versatile and reliable for a wide range of scenarios. I also recently picked up the Canon 40mm pancake lens, which has become my go-to for casual shooting and days when I don’t want to carry a heavy setup. The size and weight are ideal for travel, and it produces sharp, beautiful images.
When considering new lenses, I take my time. These days, it takes me months to decide because my current setup covers most of my needs. I ask myself whether a new lens will enhance my work or if I’m just intrigued by something new. I always try to separate infatuation from necessity.
Thoughts on Tripods and Their Practical Use
Tripods can be oddly complicated. Why are there so many types? And why are so many of them unreliable? My first tripod was a Vanguard Alta Pro. It’s a solid choice for tabletop food photography or studio work where you stay in one place. But it’s bulky and heavy. I brought it on a trip to Iceland once and deeply regretted it. Hiking with that thing was miserable. If you only need a tripod for studio use, it’s fine. But for travel, it’s not practical.
Later, I tried the Gitzo Traveler Tripod. I kept it for a week before returning it. I didn’t enjoy the twist-lock mechanism and found it cumbersome. I prefer snap locks. That preference alone can shape your tripod decision. If you're patient, Gitzo is a great tripod: lightweight and stable, but very expensive.
The tripod I’ve used the most is the Sirui ET-1204. It’s compact, light, and stable. It even came with a case, which has been surprisingly handy. The only issue I’ve had with it is the ballhead. I’m on my third replacement. The customer support experience wasn’t great either. Despite this, it remains my go-to tripod for travel and location shoots.
I also tested a Manfrotto tripod with a long name. It’s lighter than the Vanguard but heavier than the Sirui. It’s stable but not ideal for travel. One of its knobs was sticking out of the box. For the price, I wasn’t impressed. I still use it for interior shoots or when I don’t need to move around much. But I find myself returning to the Sirui because of its ease and comfort.
The conclusion I’ve reached is this: there is no perfect tripod. Every tripod has trade-offs. But the Sirui ET-1204 has been the best compromise between portability and reliability.
Lighting Equipment and Overcoming Fear of Artificial Light
For a long time, I told myself that I was a natural light photographer. In truth, I simply didn’t know how to use artificial lighting. I had no technical knowledge of light modifiers, reflectors, strobes, or flashes. It was easier to claim a preference than to admit to a skill gap. My turning point came when Eli, my partner, started exploring studio lighting. Through him, I began picking up foundational knowledge. I also had the chance to assist on various professional shoots, which helped me understand lighting setups through real-world experience. I still occasionally text Eli when I have a lighting question. While I’m the one taking the pictures, he enjoys diving into the technical side of gear. This balance has challenged me to think beyond whether I simply like how an image looks and consider the physics of how that image is created.
Lighting equipment can be expensive and bulky. That’s one reason I held off on purchasing any lights for a long time. Eventually, I decided to buy a speedlight. It was a small step that opened up many creative opportunities. Suddenly, I was no longer limited to shooting only in natural daylight. I could now work in dark restaurants during the winter or take more control over lighting in unpredictable indoor environments. That single piece of gear helped push my work forward in noticeable ways.
For over a year, I debated purchasing the Profoto B2. While they are powerful and reliable lights, the high price and substantial weight made me hesitant. When Profoto released the A1, I finally leaped. It was the right decision. The A1 is compact, intuitive, and powerful enough for most of my on-location needs. It integrates smoothly into my workflow and suits my current lighting abilities. If you're not a full-time photographer, I wouldn’t recommend the A1 simply because of its high price point. But if budget isn’t an issue, it’s an excellent light.
In general, if you're serious about photography and interested in learning artificial light, Profoto makes fantastic equipment. For those who shoot more video than photos, I've been hearing great things about Hive Lighting. I haven't used them myself yet, but they’re on my radar. Lighting is still an area where I want to grow, so this part of my kit will likely evolve as I become more confident and experienced.
Photography Accessories That Add Up
Accessories are a sneaky expense. Compared to a $3,000 camera body or a $1,500 lens, an $80 strap or a $50 filter feels like nothing. But these small purchases add up fast. Early on, I didn’t budget for them, and I often found myself surprised by how much I was spending on little things. Now I plan for it.
Both of my cameras have straps. On the Canon 5D Mark III, I use a basic strap that is functional and subtle. On the Canon 5D Mark IV, I have a sling strap. The sling is fantastic during active shoots because it distributes weight well and is easy to maneuver. However, it becomes annoying when I want to use a tripod, since I have to unscrew the strap and then attach the tripod plate. On the other camera, I leave the tripod plate attached at all times, which simplifies the process.
Lens filters are another great accessory. They help protect the front element of your lenses, which is especially important if you're rough with your gear like I am. Just be sure to buy the correct filter size that matches the thread size of your lens. Don’t assume one filter fits all. I also use camera wraps extensively. They’re soft, padded cloths that protect individual pieces of equipment when I toss them in a backpack or tote. They’re versatile, durable, and worth every penny.
Camera Bags and Travel Considerations
I have more camera bags than I care to admit. Like tripods, they’re one of those things that seem simple but are surprisingly complicated. No bag is perfect. Some bags are beautiful but lack internal support. Others are functional but scream “camera bag,” which can be risky in certain locations. I’m still searching for the mythical perfect bag.
The one bag I use for larger shoots is a padded DSLR backpack. It’s spacious and helps me carry multiple bodies and lenses while keeping them protected and organized. The downside is that it’s bulky and attracts attention. For day-to-day work, I usually leave this bag at home. Safety is another concern. I know four photographers who’ve had their camera bags stolen, so I try to be discreet whenever possible.
For smaller shoots, I use two everyday backpacks. Neither was designed for photography, but both were gifts and have proven to be useful. One is a small, structured backpack that forces me to carefully select what I carry. The other is a soft canvas bag, which is flexible but tends to let my gear shift around too much. That lack of structure is precisely what led me to purchase camera wraps, which now help prevent unnecessary damage during travel.
Whenever I’m shooting while traveling, I always bring a soft tote bag. I usually keep it folded in my luggage and pull it out when I’m heading to a shoot location. My current favorite is a free cotton tote. It’s not padded, it’s not expensive, and it doesn’t scream “expensive gear inside.” It’s ideal for casual days, beach shoots, or environments where I want to be low-key. Having a basic tote helps me blend in and lets me shift roles easily—from being just a visitor to being a working photographer. It’s also handy when I’m transitioning from a shoot to dinner or a social event. I can pack up the camera, stow it out of sight, and be on my way.
Photography Equipment I Couldn't Resist
This section doesn’t have a clear category. It’s a collection of gear I bought not out of necessity, but out of curiosity, excitement, or indulgence. Sometimes, creative tools aren’t strictly practical—they’re fun. That’s reason enough.
One of my most fun and least practical purchases has been the DJI Mavic drone. While I don’t use it often for client work, it has opened up a completely new perspective for my photography. The thing is, operating a drone comes with legal responsibilities. To use it professionally, you need licensing, and the consequences of ignoring that can be expensive. I still use it occasionally, but the software requires constant updates, and flying can be glitchy depending on the conditions. I no longer travel with my drone because it adds too many complications. If you're interested, I’d suggest borrowing or renting one first. Test it out before you commit.
I also have two tablets. One is a smaller model that I primarily use for reading. I try to keep it distraction-free and don’t install unnecessary apps. The other is a larger tablet, which I use during shoots, for quick edits, and for displaying my portfolio. It’s been particularly useful during meetings with clients, allowing me to show high-resolution photos in a clean, professional format. Having a digital portfolio that I can update anytime has been a huge plus.
Finally, I bought a Fujifilm instant camera. After spending so much time in the digital space, I occasionally crave something tangible. Instant photos are just fun. They bring a sense of joy and spontaneity that I sometimes miss when working with high-end gear. I’ve used the instant camera to create stacks of images as personal gifts or as mood board inspiration for larger shoots. It’s not something I use often, but it always brings me joy when I do.
Lessons from Gear Purchases and Personal Workflow
One thing I’ve learned over time is that photography gear is deeply personal. What works well for one person may feel completely wrong to another. This applies to everything from camera bodies to straps, bags, tripods, and even storage systems. We often look to other photographers for gear recommendations, but the truth is that everyone’s workflow, preferences, and physical comfort are different. It took me a long time to figure that out. Early on, I would read gear reviews obsessively, hoping to find the perfect setup. I would fall into comparison traps, second-guess my decisions, and assume I needed more equipment to achieve better results. But now, I focus more on how gear fits into my specific work style.
I travel often and shoot a mix of food, people, interiors, and travel scenes. Because of that, portability and speed matter just as much as quality. There are tools I’ve bought that are excellent in theory but sit unused because they’re too bulky, complicated, or incompatible with how I like to move through a shoot. I’ve learned to prioritize gear that allows me to work quickly, efficiently, and with as little interruption as possible. For example, while I appreciate beautiful handcrafted camera straps, I’ve found that practical, easy-to-adjust straps are better for fast-paced work. I’d rather have something plain that saves me time than something gorgeous that slows me down.
One of the biggest changes in my workflow came when I began organizing my digital assets more seriously. For years, I would dump images onto a drive and sort them later. That later never came. Eventually, it became such a mess that I couldn’t find anything without digging through old folders for hours. I now organize every shoot into folders based on date, client, and project type. Within each folder, I include original RAW files, final selects, and exports for web or print. I also keep notes on client preferences and shot lists, which helps me reference things quickly when working with repeat clients. It’s not a perfect system, but it has made editing and delivery infinitely more efficient.
Adapting Gear to Different Shooting Environments
Shooting on location often means being flexible and working around unpredictable conditions. Whether it's a dimly lit restaurant, a crowded market, or a windy cliffside, I have to adapt my gear and technique to fit the situation. Over time, I’ve developed a habit of packing with specific environments in mind. I’ll often bring a smaller camera body or lens when I know space is tight. If I expect low light, I’ll bring a fast prime lens and a compact lighting setup. The goal is always to be ready without being overloaded.
For food photography, especially in restaurants or kitchens, space is often limited. I try to minimize the size of my footprint by bringing only what I know I’ll use. I also plan my angles ahead of time so I’m not constantly rearranging lighting or tripods. In situations where I have more control over the setup, I might bring a full lighting kit, a backdrop, and props. But when shooting in real spaces where other people are working, I stay as nimble as possible. This respect for the environment not only makes me more efficient but also helps me maintain good relationships with chefs, business owners, and staff.
Travel shoots add another layer of complexity. Weather changes, cultural norms, transportation delays, and language barriers can all impact how I work. Because of that, I keep my gear packed in layers. My essentials—camera body, lenses, and cards—are always in a padded insert inside a general-purpose backpack. I’ll also have my cleaning tools, extra batteries, and a wrap or cloth in case I need to protect my gear on the fly. When I know I’ll be walking or hiking a lot, I swap heavier gear for lighter options and plan for longer shooting windows in case I need to pause or wait out poor light conditions.
Real-World Gear Reliability and Trust
There’s a difference between a product that looks good on paper and one that performs reliably in the field. I’ve had beautifully designed gear that failed in critical moments and simple, utilitarian tools that never let me down. Over time, I’ve come to trust certain brands and models, not because of marketing but because of lived experience. I’ve dropped cameras on cobblestone streets, used tripods in freezing rivers, and shot through storms. The gear that holds up in those moments is what earns a permanent spot in my kit.
I’ve also learned how to recognize signs of wear before they become serious problems. If a ballhead starts to slip or a lens mount feels loose, I don’t wait until failure. I’ve learned to test my gear regularly, especially before a client shoot or travel day. I clean my lenses, check my cards, and run through a few test shots. It’s a simple practice, but it’s saved me from potential disasters more than once.
There are also moments when the gear breaks or fails despite your best efforts. I’ve had tripods collapse mid-shot, card readers stop working during transfers, and bags tear while boarding planes. Those situations used to stress me out, but now I try to plan for the unexpected. I travel with extra cards, batteries, and a second body whenever possible. I keep my files backed up in at least two places, and I know how to troubleshoot quickly if something goes wrong. These aren’t glamorous parts of being a photographer, but they’re necessary.
When Gear Matters and When It Doesn't
Photography gear can unlock creative possibilities, but it doesn’t define the quality of your work. There is a temptation—especially early on—to think that better gear will automatically make you a better photographer. While gear does improve technical performance, it can’t replace vision, timing, or storytelling. Some of my favorite images were taken with limited equipment under less-than-ideal conditions. What mattered was the moment, the light, and the intention behind the shot.
That said, I don’t believe in completely ignoring gear either. The right tool can make a shoot easier, faster, or more comfortable. If you shoot interiors, a wide-angle lens can be transformative. If you shoot portraits, a lens with creamy bokeh can help elevate the look. If you shoot food, macro capabilities, or sharp prime lenses make a noticeable difference. Understanding what each tool does—and how it fits into your style—is more important than owning the most expensive version of everything.
I’ve also come to realize that confidence grows when you know your gear. Being able to adjust settings quickly, troubleshoot without stress, and plan around limitations gives you more freedom to focus on composition and creativity. That familiarity takes time. It’s not something you get from unboxing a new camera. You earn it through practice, mistakes, and repetition.
That’s why I always encourage newer photographers to start with less. Use what you have until you feel the limitation. Only then consider upgrading. Not just because you want to, but because you need to. That decision-making habit will serve you better in the long run than chasing the latest release every few months.
Balancing Sentiment and Practicality in Equipment Choices
One of the interesting things about being a photographer for several years is how emotional gear choices can become. There are lenses I’ve used so consistently that I have a strange attachment to them. My Sigma 35mm, for example, has been with me on dozens of jobs and more personal moments than I can count. Even when I’ve thought about replacing it, something holds me back. That lens is part of how I see. It’s not just about sharpness or distortion—it’s about how the lens interprets light in a way that has shaped my work.
That kind of emotional connection is hard to measure. But it does play a role in decision-making. I used to think I would constantly cycle through new gear, always upgrading to the latest model. What I’ve found instead is that once I know how a piece of equipment performs and fits my workflow, I hesitate to switch it out unless the improvement is obvious. New isn’t always better. And sometimes, it’s just a distraction from getting out and taking photos.
There’s also the practical side. Sentiment aside, there are times when something breaks, becomes outdated, or stops performing the way you need it to. In those moments, it’s important to be honest about whether you’re holding onto something for the wrong reasons. I’ve had to let go of tripods, lenses, and even camera bodies that served me well but no longer made sense in my setup. It’s not about loyalty to objects—it’s about understanding when it’s time to evolve.
Shifting from Gear Obsession to Creative Focus
For the first couple of years, I obsessed over gear specs. I knew every comparison chart, every sensor rating, and every minor firmware update. I’d spend hours reading reviews, watching unboxing videos, and adding things to imaginary shopping carts. At the time, it felt like research. But looking back, I realize it was often a way to avoid doing the hard creative work. It’s easier to fixate on gear than to face the discomfort of not knowing if your work is good enough.
Over time, that changed. The more time I spent shooting, the less I cared about theoretical specs and the more I cared about results. I started to understand how my camera responded to different lighting situations. I learned which lenses were sharpest at what aperture, how far I could push my ISO, and what settings gave me the look I wanted. That hands-on knowledge became far more valuable than any review or product guide.
I’m not saying gear isn’t important. It is. But the energy spent obsessing over equipment is better spent building your creative voice, learning to see light, practicing your composition, and understanding your subject. Those are the things that carry over across any camera system, any brand, and any lens. Once you get to a certain point, your gear becomes an extension of how you see, not the thing you rely on to make something look good.
The Ongoing Process of Refinement
Photography isn’t a one-time setup where you buy the perfect gear and you’re done. Your needs change, your work evolves, and your preferences shift. What worked well last year might not be enough today. And what felt essential early on might be something you’ve outgrown. That’s part of the process.
I revisit my gear choices every few months. Not to upgrade, but to evaluate. Is this lens still working the way I need it to? Is this tripod slowing me down? Do I find myself leaving this light at home more often than not? If I’m not using something consistently, I either find a new way to integrate it into my work or I let it go. That practice helps me stay lean and intentional with what I carry.
Sometimes refinement also means investing in better tools as your standards go up. If your client work now demands higher resolution files or faster turnaround times, you might need a better processor, a second body, or faster cards. If you’re getting into video, you may need audio gear, a gimbal, or different editing software. The goal isn’t to accumulate more things but to align your tools with your current creative and professional goals.
One of the best things you can do as a photographer is to check in with your process often. Ask yourself what’s working and what’s getting in the way. Sometimes that means rethinking your gear. But more often, it means rethinking how you approach your work and whether the tools you’ve chosen support that direction.
Creating Without Perfection
At the end of the day, all the equipment in the world won’t make you a better photographer if you’re not out there creating. It’s easy to get caught in the loop of waiting until you have the right lens or the better light or the newer camera. But creativity doesn’t come from perfection. It comes from doing the work consistently, even when the conditions aren’t ideal.
Some of my favorite shoots came out of messy situations. Bad weather, poor lighting, broken gear. What mattered was being present, adapting, and making something despite those challenges. Those experiences pushed me further than any perfect setup ever could. They taught me how to work with what I had, stay flexible, and focus on storytelling instead of gear.
That’s why I always encourage photographers—new and experienced alike—to keep shooting. Use the tools you have. Know your equipment inside and out. Learn how to get the most out of it. Then forget about it and just go make the image. The best gear is the kind you stop thinking about because it disappears into your process.
This list of equipment is a reflection of where I’m at today. It’s likely to change in the next year or two as I continue to evolve. But for now, these are the tools I trust, the lessons I’ve learned, and the experiences that shaped how I work. My hope is that by sharing it, you find clarity not only about what to buy, but also about what to focus on. Your camera is only one part of the equation. The rest is up to you.
Conclusion
Photography equipment can feel overwhelming when you’re starting out, and even years later, it can still be a source of confusion, obsession, and curiosity. It’s easy to believe that owning the right gear will solve every creative challenge, but the truth is more nuanced. Gear matters—it shapes how we work, how we see, and how we translate vision into an image—but it’s not everything. It can make a job easier, help refine a look, or offer new possibilities, but it cannot replace time spent learning your craft, understanding your environment, and developing your voice.
Throughout my journey, I’ve learned that thoughtful, strategic purchases matter more than impulsive upgrades. I’ve learned to trust the gear I’ve used and to let go of what no longer fits my process. I’ve built a kit that suits the kind of work I do, and that continues to evolve as my needs change. It’s a process, not a destination. And that process will look different for every photographer.