Why I Still Use 9-Year-Old Cameras for Commercial Work

 And Why the Right Tool Isn’t Always the Newest

Walk into any camera shop or scroll through any photography forum, and you’ll be met with the relentless drumbeat of “newer is better.” More megapixels. Better low-light performance. Faster autofocus. Shiny, mirrorless bodies that make DSLRs look like rotary phones. But here I am, a commercial photographer with over 30 years behind the lens, still making a living—and making damn good images—with 9-year-old cameras.

Yes, you read that right. My primary workhorses were released nearly a decade ago. And no, this isn’t some hipster, analog, vintage-aesthetic rebellion. I don’t cling to old gear for nostalgia’s sake. I use it because it works—and because upgrading wouldn’t add a single dollar to my bottom line.

The Myth of Gear = Growth

In commercial photography, the assumption is that better gear equals better results. But if you’re shooting for the web, social, or even basic print collateral, most clients can’t tell—or don’t care—whether the image was shot with a 100MP medium format sensor or a 42MP DSLR from 2015. They just want clean, well-lit, on-brand images that make their products or services look irresistible.

My clients don’t hire me for my gear. They hire me because I understand how to make a lemon tart look like a Michelin-star dish or turn a pack shot into something that makes buyers click “Add to Cart.” That doesn’t require the latest tech. It requires skill, lighting, composition, and experience you can’t buy off the shelf at B&H.

The Specs That Still Hold Up

Let’s get into some numbers. My cameras (Sony a7R II bodies, in case you're wondering) shoot at 42.4MP. That resolution is more than enough for anything under a billboard. The dynamic range? Still impressive. Color science? Consistent. The files hold up in print and post-production. They work seamlessly with my editing workflow, which, after decades of fine-tuning, is efficient and rock-solid.

But here’s the kicker: most of my work goes straight to the internet. We’re talking Shopify pages, restaurant websites, social ads, email headers, and the occasional print menu. Even with the ever-growing retina displays, the internet just doesn’t need 61MP files—let alone 102MP monsters.

Do I rent higher-res gear when needed? Absolutely. If I’m shooting a national ad campaign or something destined for giant-format signage, I’ll pull out the big guns. But for the other 80% of my jobs? My 9-year-old cameras still earn their keep.

The Lenses Matter More

Here’s a hot take: Glass is more important than megapixels.

I pair my bodies with a curated collection of Sekor lenses from the 1970s. That’s right—vintage manual focus lenses. They have character, personality, and a look you just can’t replicate with modern glass. They breathe life into pack shots, beverages, and food photography. They give me separation, falloff, and texture that elevate even the most basic of subjects.

And because I know them inside and out—every quirk, every sweet spot—I can shoot faster and with more intention. Modern lenses may be sharper, faster, and quieter, but they don’t have the same soul. My clients aren’t asking about lens sharpness or autofocus speed. They’re asking me to make their croissant look buttery, flaky, and warm. That’s not about f-stops—it’s about storytelling.

The Real Advantage: Predictability and Workflow

When you’ve been using the same camera for nearly a decade, there are no surprises on set. You know how the sensor reacts to different light, how much recovery you have in the shadows, how it handles skin tones under mixed lighting. That predictability gives me creative freedom. I don’t waste time fiddling with new menus or updating firmware the morning of a shoot. I just work.

This is huge when you’re running a tight set—especially for commercial food and beverage work, where timing is critical. Ice melts. Garnishes wilt. Steam disappears. I need a camera that I can operate blindfolded if necessary.

My workflow is also optimized around these tools. From capture to Lightroom to final delivery, I’ve built a pipeline that’s lean, fast, and replicable. I’m not chasing compatibility issues or debugging software. That means faster turnarounds for clients and more time for me to focus on the creative.

Clients Care About Results, Not Tech Specs

Here’s a truth bomb: most clients don’t know what camera you use, and they don’t care.

They care about your portfolio. They care about reliability, professionalism, and whether you can deliver what you promised on time and on brand. When they see the photos in their lookbook, on their menu, or in their Amazon listings, they’re not asking what sensor size I used. They’re thinking: “Damn, that looks good.”

And that’s the only thing that matters.

I’ve shot for restaurants, breweries, tech companies, and national brands using these same bodies and lenses. No one has ever asked for a camera upgrade. The work speaks for itself. If a new camera added real value, I’d invest. But for now? I’m investing in better lighting, better styling, better storytelling.

Sustainability and the Anti-Upgrade Cycle

Let’s also talk about the environmental impact of constantly upgrading gear. Photography is an industry that churns out new models every year, encouraging us to toss perfectly functional tools in favor of marginal improvements. By sticking with older gear, I’m reducing electronic waste and making my business more sustainable—not just environmentally, but financially.

New gear is expensive. If it’s not driving revenue or improving output, it’s a vanity expense. I’d rather spend that money on creative collaborations, education, marketing, or upgrading areas that do impact image quality—like studio lighting or set design.

When New Gear Does Make Sense

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not anti-tech. I love innovation. I drool over new sensors and eye-tracking AF just like the next gearhead. But the key is purposeful upgrading.

I’ll rent when needed. If a body dies, I’ll replace it with something smart. But I’m not trading in perfectly good tools just because there’s a newer model. It’s like replacing a classic chef’s knife with a shiny, gimmicky one that slices tomatoes with laser beams but feels wrong in your hand.

Use what works. Upgrade when it matters. And focus on what clients actually pay you for: results.

Lessons from 30 Years Behind the Camera

Thirty years in the industry has taught me one big truth: the camera doesn’t make the image—you do.

Clients aren’t hiring gear. They’re hiring vision. They want your eye, your taste, your consistency. That comes from years of reps, mistakes, problem-solving, and weird lighting rigs that somehow just worked. It doesn’t come from a new menu button or higher frame rate.

Older gear, in the hands of someone who knows how to wield it, will outperform brand-new gear in the hands of someone still figuring it out. Every. Single. Time.

 Why I’ll Keep Shooting with My 9-Year-Old Cameras

I’ll retire my current gear when it gives me a reason to. Not when the industry tells me to. Until then, I’ll keep doing what I do best: helping businesses tell better visual stories.

If you’re a photographer feeling the pressure to upgrade, ask yourself:

• Is your current gear limiting your work?

• Will new gear genuinely unlock better results for your clients?

• Or are you just caught up in the hype cycle?

If it’s the latter, maybe it’s time to step back and shoot with what you’ve got. You might be surprised how far it takes you.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not about the camera—it’s about the craft.

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Want more insight into how gear, lighting, and storytelling come together to create powerful commercial images? Follow along as I share behind-the-scenes tips, camera tricks, and hard-earned lessons from three decades in the game.