Still Life Is My New Crush (Let's Talk About The Love Affair)

Loewe Bags, Jacquemus Fruit, and Why I’m High-Key Obsessed with Still Life

For years, still life—aka product photography—barely registered on my creative radar.

If anything, I actually found it uninspiring. Boring, even. Give me a model and I’ll give you a story. An emotion. A character. Products, on the other hand? They make you do all the heavy lifting. There’s no cheeky glance, no elongated limbs creating those impossibly elegant shapes, no spark of human connection. Just… an object. Static, unmoving. Silently demanding, “Make me interesting.”

But recently, I’ve felt an inexplicable pull toward still life. I’m fascinated. Obsessed, even. I want to do more of it—dive deeper, push its boundaries—and I can’t quite figure out why.

Is it the rise of creative geniuses like Lauren Bamford? Jacquemus’ surrealist approach? Loewe’s playful, sculptural campaigns? Or is there something more cultural—more psychological—at play?

Let’s unpack this while scrolling through some of my most recent still life saves.

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Maybe It’s the Client Briefs? (No Shade, Okay, Maybe a Little)

For years, still life briefs rarely sparked anything in me. They were so prescriptive—clean backgrounds, clinical lighting, “hero angles” that showed the product in its most flattering, most functional light. Creative? Hardly. And let’s not even mention group shots. I was one beauty advent calendar lineup away from questioning my entire career as an art director.

The problem? Some brands are so focused on showing the product that they forget the emotional side—the story, the feeling, the sensory experience. Instead of making you dream, they make you squint at fine print.

But thankfully, the landscape has evolved. The best brands now understand that still life can be art. Without a model, the object becomes a blank canvas—a vessel for any mood, story, or feeling you want to create. There’s a purity to it, a thrill in taking something static and giving it life. It’s just you, the product, and the world you conjure around it. And honestly? That challenge is what makes it so exciting.

Credits: Lauren Bamford

Credits: Lauren Bamford

Or Maybe It’s the Economy? Blame (or Thank) the Cost of Living Crisis

It’s impossible to ignore how the economy has shaped still life’s rise to prominence. With disposable incomes shrinking, the £3,000 Loewe coat isn’t exactly flying off the shelves. But a Loewe soap, candle, or scarf? That’s a different story. These “sweet treats” of luxury—small, accessible items that let consumers buy into the dream without breaking the bank—have become a lifeline for high-end brands.

And what better way to market these aspirational yet affordable luxuries than with still life? A candle doesn’t need a model, a stylist, or a team. It just needs great lighting, a perfect shadow, and an art director who can make it feel like the most covetable object on Earth.

This shift isn’t just about consumer behaviour—it’s about budgets, too. Even big fashion houses are tightening their belts, forcing creatives like me to do more with less. What was once a tired, functional space is now a playground for bold ideas, where scarves, candles, and sunglasses become the stars of their own stories.

Maybe, like the rest of the world, I’m captivated by the idea that the simplest objects can feel extraordinary.

LOEWE Home Scents Textura Mimosa Scented Candle

Photographed by brand Esmé

Credits: Photography By Frida My and Set by Andreas Frienholt

Or Are We Just Burnt Out on Model Photography?

Let’s be honest: model photography has been the backbone of fashion campaigns forever. But maybe that’s part of the problem. We’ve seen it all before. Still life feels like a rebellion. A break from the predictable. There’s no perfect face, no striking pose—just an object, stripped of context, waiting for you to imbue it with meaning.

It feels fresh, modern, and oddly intimate. It’s not about the person wearing the Loewe bag; it’s about the bag itself and the mood it conjures. It’s about the details, the textures, the colours—not the unattainable beauty of the model holding it.

This Then Begs The Question: Is There More Creativity to Be Found in Still Life?

With still life, the details take centre stage: colours, symmetry, texture, light. The elements that often play a supporting role in model photography suddenly become the stars. You notice the interplay between glossy and matte surfaces, the curve of a shadow, the way a single pop of colour can transform an entire composition.

jacquemus

A post shared by @jacquemus

Every element—every fold of fabric, every glint of light—is intentional. And yet, there’s room for playfulness. It’s precise yet experimental. Structured yet spontaneous.

It’s the difference between creating a mood versus capturing one. With a model, you’re responding to their energy, their movement. With still life, you’re building the mood piece by piece, like a puzzle where every detail matters.

And as I touched on previously with “Finding My Own Aesthetic After Years of Working On Everyone Else's”, I’m utterly obsessed with colour—not in the loud, shouty luxury way of bold gradients or clashing tones, but in the subtlety of tonality. A palette that flows effortlessly, where every hue feels like it belongs.

And thinking about it now, that obsession with colour is probably another reason I’m so drawn to still life. Unless you’re shooting on a colorama backdrop or working with bold makeup, it’s hard to capture colour with the same richness in model photography. Still life gives you that wash of pure, unfiltered vibrancy—where every shade and tone gets its moment to shine. It’s like painting with light, and I can’t get enough of it.

Lauren Bamford For Saint Lauren

Image by Hey Estrid

So, Why Am I So Obsessed?

Part of me wonders if it’s to do with questioning working in fashion everyday, and dreaming of food, interiors or something new. But really—I think the answer is probably that, plus all of the above. It’s the cultural moment we’re in. The creativity of the briefs. The budgets. The economy. The burnout from model photography. The joy of finding beauty in the small details. Still life feels like a puzzle, a challenge, an opportunity to see the world differently. And I’m here for it.

loewe_perfumes

A post shared by @loewe_perfumes

But I don’t think it’s just me. Some of my most popular moodboard notes on here are about still life. It’s clearly resonating.

So, here’s to the objects: the handbags, the shoes, the sunglasses, the ceramics. May they forever surprise, delight, and inspire us.

And may I never find still life boring again.