Lens Envy can be a good thing

How feelings of inadequacy forced me to get a bigger camera.

Getting into photography is different for everyone, but it generally involves the idea of being able to create a good-to-look-at image, or to record a moment or experience. 

A statue at Kidwelly Castle. One of the first DSLR shots that I was actually proud of taking and editing.

Asking someone how they got into photography could involve an artsy, hand-wavy answer that bores the socks off most people, or rarely, something a bit inspirational. 

Something that you’re going to get a more crystalline answer to is if you ask when they moved to a big “proper” camera. From a compact or their smartphone to a DSLR or a mirrorless camera. 

In many cases, that answer will take the form of needing something beyond the capabilities of their smaller snapper. Or that they had the money and felt their work would benefit from the jump in specifications and capability. 

For me, it was a bit of a limited-capabilities problem, but rather more one of jealousy. 

Lens Envy. 

London: The Turning Point

I can tell you the exact point when I decided to invest in my first DSLR. It was the press launch for the Samsung Galaxy S III, an Android smartphone that I was tasked to report on for Electronista. 

I got to go on an expensed trip to London, and got paid for it all too. For decade-younger me, who hadn’t been writing professionally as a tech blogger for that long, this was an amazing opportunity and really helped make the job more attractive to do long-term. 

Skipping over most unrelated bits of the experience, the important elements were that I had to take photographs of the event itself, and the smartphone for a hands-on, which had to be dispatched for publication as soon as possible after occurring. 

To do all of this, I had a cheap Dell notebook (that I somehow still own) and a compact camera. It had lots of megapixels, so it took a decent, albeit basic, picture. It’d do. 

Except, it didn’t. 

For the hands-on, it was more than capable of taking photographs of the smartphone that could quickly be published on the site. 

The launch presentation itself was another matter entirely. 

The compact with its weedy optical zoom and horrific digital zoom was not able to properly capture the stage from where I had sat. Trying to be polite to everyone took its toll, and I was lumbered toward the back of the hall. 

At this time, I saw others who were working for blogs but didn’t have the same problem. Or rather, they had an actual solution. They were all using DSLRs. 

Most of them could easily capture the stage, the Samsung chief holding the smartphone, and all the important shots you would want from an event as a publication. 

At this point, the world became a landscape that Freud would have a field day with. 

I felt ashamed of my tiny camera, and grew envious of the massive lenses of others. They could get up close and personal, perfectly framing from afar like a marksman with reassuringly expensive glassware. 

After filing the report and getting on the train for the multi-hour journey home, I had a feeling of inadequacy, all because of the camera. 

How could I improve? I needed a camera as good as the others. I needed lenses that did what I needed them to do. 

I resolved not to end up in a similar situation again, and that resulted in heading down the rabbit hole of camera research for the first time. 

The Nikon D5100 and its two kit lenses. I felt unstoppable with this gear…

Within months, I had saved up enough for a Nikon D5100, my first DSLR, and a pair of kit lenses that allowed me to go up to 200mm at maximum zoom. 

Yes, this was a cheap camera set bought from Currys in Carmarthen. I probably could’ve gone better than that, but for a first camera, it worked. It did what I needed it to do, or thereabouts. 

Was it the right move to make? Undoubtedly. 

Ten years later

Amazingly, I still have the D5100 on hand, in case I ever need it for some reason. I don’t know when that will be, as I’m very much covered with the Canon EOS RP, but it’s available if I’m stuck in a pinch. 

Evidently, that upgrade made me catch the photography bug hard, leading to a few summers of documenting local events and attractions. At one point, I even realised that I should slip off Auto and learn how to do the photography thing properly. 

I’ve certainly grown as a photographer compared to then, as years of practice tend to do that. I may not necessarily be up there with the greats, but I’m miles ahead of where I was. 

I’m sure that if I had stuck with the compact camera, I’d have been like many other casual photographers and focused on using a smartphone camera for any shots instead of upgrading. 

But had I not encountered the moment where the limitations of my tools got in the way of the task, I wouldn’t have upgraded. I wouldn’t have learned how to improve my photography skills to the same level. 

Camera envy and lens jealousy gave just enough of a push in the right direction. It was a bad experience that resulted in an expensive recovery, but it ended up being a positive formative incident that made me better in countless ways.