In the world of marketing and human behavior, we often fall into the trap of confusing what we buy with why we buy it. This confusion isn't just academic; it's the difference between a product that gathers dust in a drawer and one that becomes an indispensable part of our lives.
Take the electric drill, for instance. Hardware stores don't advertise drills by extolling the virtues of finely crafted holes. No, they show you the shelves you'll put up, the deck you'll build, the treehouse that will make you the envy of the neighborhood. You're not buying a drill; you're buying the ability to transform your living space.
This principle extends far beyond the realm of power tools. In fact, it's particularly potent in the world of photography.
As a portrait and event photographer, I've come to realize that what I'm selling isn't just images – it's something far more profound.
Let's start with the corporate headshot. On the surface, it might seem like a simple transaction: you pay me to take a picture of you looking your professional best. But that's like saying you buy a drill to make holes. The real reason you're getting that headshot isn't to admire yourself (though a bit of vanity never hurt anyone).
No, you're investing in a tool that makes you memorable and recognizable to others. In a world where first impressions are increasingly made online, your headshot is your handshake, your smile, your firm grip translated into pixels. It's not just a photo; it's your digital ambassador, working tirelessly to make connections while you sleep.
Now, let's crash a wedding. When I'm hired to photograph a couple's big day, I'm not just there to document the event. If that were the case, we could all save a lot of money and just set up a few security cameras. No, what I'm really doing is capturing memories. I'm creating a time machine that allows the couple to relive their special day whenever they wish.
And for those guests who couldn't make it? I'm providing a window into an event they missed, allowing them to share in the joy and celebration despite the distance. In essence, I'm not selling photography services; I'm selling the ability to transcend time and space.
But perhaps the most intriguing aspect of photography is what happens when we step into the studio. When you book a studio session, you're not coming to see who you are. You know who you are (most days, at least). No, you're coming to uncover the things you don't see, the aspects of yourself that are hidden, the new facets you want to reveal to the world. It's less about capturing an image and more about exploration and discovery. In this sense, a photography studio is less like a portrait parlour and more like a psychological excavation site. We're not just taking pictures; we're unearthing buried treasure.
This idea of uncovering something new is at the heart of all great photography. When we raise a camera to our eye, we're not just documenting what we already know. We're embarking on a journey of discovery. It's why portrait photographers can reveal aspects of a person's character that even they weren't aware of. We're not taking pictures of what we know; we're taking pictures to uncover something new.
Now, you might be thinking, "That's all well and good, but how does this change how I approach photography, either as a photographer or a client?" Well, I'm glad you asked.
This shift in perspective can help you get much more value from your photography experiences. When booking a photographer, don't just think about the end product (the photos).
Think about what those photos will do for you?
How will they make you feel?
What doors might they open?
What stories will they tell?
By focusing on these deeper benefits, you're more likely to invest in photography that truly enriches your life, rather than just adds to your digital clutter.
But there's a broader lesson here, one that extends beyond photography and into the realm of how we perceive value in general. We often make the mistake of valuing things based on their intrinsic properties rather than their effects. We admire the craftsmanship of a watch without considering how it makes us feel when we wear it. We obsess over the thread count of sheets without thinking about the quality of sleep they provide. We focus on the resolution of a TV without considering the joy of family movie nights.
In doing so, we miss the forest for the trees. We forget that the true value of most things in our lives comes not from what they are, but from what they enable us to do, feel, or become.
So the next time you're considering a purchase – be it a drill, a photo session, or anything else – ask yourself: What am I really buying here? What hole am I trying to fill (pun absolutely intended)? What memory am I trying to preserve? What aspect of myself am I trying to uncover or project?
By focusing on these deeper motivations, we can make choices that truly enrich our lives, rather than just fill our homes with stuff. And who knows? You might just find that the perfect portrait is worth a thousand drills. Or something like that. I'm still working on the metaphor.
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