Context was born out of boredom. Boredom was onset by repetition and monotony. Occasionally I would try something “new” to break the monotony. Photographing backstages…or tight portraits of models on the street. Nothing new to the world, but new to me. And from these steps outside of my pigeon-hole, often my peers would follow. When you walk into a backstage nowadays, many of the photographers you will find are those who before were documenting the streets. And there was a period as well where street photographers Instagrams had strikingly similar portraiture to my own. If anything, it’s validating. To see an idea populated and propagated through others. I was, anyhow, not doing anything that hadn’t already been done. I was just sick of being outside in the rain all damned day.

To say I wasn’t inspired by those who came before me would be a blasphemous lie. Scott, Tommy, Garance, Phil, Guerre, Candice, Hanneli, Jason, Søren, Daniel + Caroline, Vanessa, and ALL the others who came before me inspired me and formed my “eye” through watching and mimicking.

“Nothing New” was the name of Virgil’s FW 2017/2018 collection. I remember it vividly. I remember Raf’s quote. I remember being backstage. I remember the invitation covered in Duchampian references. I remember Vogue Russia’s review. I remember realizing that standing outside of a fashion show with my camera I was taking photos of people walking into a building. Waiting 30-40 minutes and taking photos of them exiting. “Nothing New”.

And then along comes Goldie. Now to give credit where credit is due, I don’t know what came first, or whom. Goldie was there with “Très Cool” and Marc-Henri, and there was Jeremy, and Melo, and many others, and just this whole new crew of guys (all French) who just shook shit up. From this group of friends was born a new eye. A way of changing the rules. It’s ironic as Goldie famously says “You know the rules” every time I see him. But he breaks them daily with his camera.

This post is about Goldie, but rest-assured the other boys from this school are on my list. I arrive late to Goldie’s apartment in the 19th arrondissement of Paris. It’s early, and in a week of being in dozens of peoples’ Parisian homes and hotels, I have learned that I cannot know what to expect. I walk in and Goldie offers me apple juice. His apartment is great. Laid out exactly as I would like to think I would have done it. He has my books on display, which I’m sure were placed there just before I buzzed the door, but a nice gesture, nonetheless. “You know what time it is” usually follows Goldie’s rhetorical “You know the rules”. He sits and I photograph him (and his juice) in the morning light and checking the time (non-rhetorically) we need to rush. Goldie walks me downstairs, and we take a few photos in front of the Halal butcher in front of his apartment.

The problem with photographers photographing photographers is the photographer of the photographer faces fears of unfavorable feelings by the photographed photographer upon finding the photos. Every shutter release I question myself. Will he like this? Will this do him justice? Shooting Scott and shooting Goldie feel the same. What will they think? I’m happy with these photos (especially the one in front of the three white arrows) but it does take a bit of courage to do this. You lose all sense of power, in a way. Not that it really matters, but the ego has to go out the door.

Go to his Instagram(s). Now! His work is different. He shows me things at Fashion Week and elsewhere which I wish I could see. Things that were right there in front of me, but I didn’t see. Tommy does this for me as well. Jonathan Daniel Pryce. Alex “Très Cool” Dobé. The list is not that long, and it shouldn’t be, or it would become boring. But I look to Goldie’s eye when I want to see something extraordinary. “Something New.”