Letting Go of Photography Props: Why I’m Releasing a Few Props

Why Props Became My Thing 

Letting go of photography props is something I never expected to feel this emotional about.

I’m a hoarder — well, I’ve got the spirit of a hoarder, though that’s probably not even remotely accurate.

Maybe “collector” is the more correct term.

Yes — a collector.

Those are the things I hold onto.

I also tend to place lots of sentimental value on the things I collect. 

Growing Up Without Roots

I know where this behavior comes from. It comes from my tumultuous childhood. We moved around a lot growing up. We never stayed in one home for longer than a year. One time, we moved after three months. Sometimes we lived in motels. There were several times when my mom dropped me off at someone’s house for a few weeks until she found us a place to stay. 

Living Light Because We Had To

Because of this constant moving around, we never had things. What I could carry in my backpack were clothes and maybe a book. We didn’t bother decorating our homes because every time we did, it’d end up in the dumpster when we got kicked out. 

So, quite honestly, I never bothered with knick-knacks as a kid or even as a teen. Because once we did get a stable home, I shared a room with my mom until I graduated from high school. Even in my dorm, I didn’t really get to decorate the way I wanted. It was close, though — but we still had to move out at the end of the year, so I learned quickly after my freshman year to only decorate my dorm with things that could easily fit into a moving container. 

But when I got my first apartment, I experienced what it was like to make a house into a home, and that apartment became my first landing spot.

For the first time, I filled a space with things that expressed me.

It became a deeply emotional experience.

When I moved into my husband’s house, it was a rough experience. My husband is a minimalist, while I love collecting knick-knacks. So we had the challenge of turning his house into our home. My husband understood my need to collect things and decorate our home in ways that expressed who we were — as a couple and as individuals. 

Now his desk has pictures, D&D figurines, and little things that express him. My desk does the same.

When Props Took Over the Space

When I became a freelance photographer and began doing more studio work, I started collecting alllll the props. We needed a space to store them, so we turned part of our garage into a prop storage area. I’ve spent the last six years collecting props. So many props that I’ve officially run out of space. 

I could rearrange the garage for shelves. I could rent a storage unit. But I realized that if I did that, I’d just keep collecting more and more props. I also realized that there needs to be some order. Some boundaries. Some limitations. 

And that maybe — just maybe — it might be time to let go of some props to make space for new ones. 

Facing the Emotional Weight of Letting Go

This is hard for me. I’m surprised (and also not surprised) by how emotional this experience is turning out to be. After all, they’re just props… right? 

I think releasing old props in order to make space for new ones might breathe new life into my photography. You know how you grow comfortable with certain clothes, certain shoes, certain patterns? I’ve grown comfortable with these props. I know how they’ll look in certain lighting situations and which color backdrops they pair beautifully with. 

New props mean new growing pains. 

Anyway, I decided to use this blog post as a landing space to identify my fears and worries about letting go of props I’ve grown attached to — and maybe, toward the end of this post, I’ll come to some sort of peace. 

So here goes. 

The Fear of What Happens to My Props After Me 

This might be silly or have some of y’all shaking your heads and doing the finger-twirl “cuckoooo” motion, but I believe everything carries energy. 

(Okay, Ed and Lorraine Warren from The Conjuring.) 

But really, yes — I do.

For me, props carry energy from one decade to the next.

Which is why I get sooo excited when I get my hands on something from the 50s…

The oldest prop I have is an original school desk that’s almost 130 years old! (BTW, I’m never giving this prop away. Everrrrr.) 

Why Old Props Feel Alive to Me

Sometimes I think about these props and all the moments in time they’ve experienced. Survived. It’s part of the reason I’m obsessed with classic fine art paintings.

But I treat my props as if they’re living, breathing entities. I give them names. When I’m picking out props for a test shoot, I’ll talk to them and say things like, “Ooooh girl, it’s your time to shine!” 

I believe that if you treat and care for your things with kindness and love, they’ll treat and care for you, too. That’s why I don’t want negative energy flowing into my photography.

Letting Go Without Knowing the Outcome

I worry about what will happen to my props after I give them away. Will they be adorned and admired in someone’s home? Will they end up on the set of an amazing photoshoot or TV show? Or will they end up in a large bin at the Goodwill Outlet — tossed aside? Or worse… a landfill? 

Will the next owner throw it and smash it? 

I know it’s ridiculous, but this is truly what goes through my head. I care deeply about the things in my home, and it would bring me peace of mind to know that the next home they land in will be just as loving as mine was. 

I think the best way around this fear is to donate to places I know will appreciate these props. Fellow prop stylists. Prop houses. Or giving them away through my Buy Nothing community. 

That way, I know where they’re going — and how they’ll be cared for. 

The Panic of Needing Something I’ve Already Given Away

There’s that classic line: “You don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone.” 

Every single time I’ve given something away (okay, maybe not every time), I end up needing it again. Like the time my husband and I gave away two really nice air purifiers… and now we desperately need them because we have a dog who sheds sooo much fur. 

The Fear of Needing Something Again

I think about those air purifiers and shake my fist at the gods. I absolutely hate having to rebuy something I just had. 

So I hang on to everrrrything “just in case.” I live in this endless 

I-don’t-wanna-give-it-away-because-I-might-need-it-again-one-time fear. It’s ridiculous. But it’s true. 

Why buy it again if you already have it? 

I guess one solution is to look at an item and think about the last time I actually used it. If it’s appeared in three or more shoots, I’ll ask myself: Is there any other way I could use this prop? 

You know… I just thought of this right now. 

Creating Closure Before Letting Things Go

When I decide to donate clothing, I wear it one final time. Like a last dance. It’ll be my outfit for the day. Then once I’m home, I wash it, fold it, and say thanks to it. I thank it for making me feel good, look good, feel confident — and now it’s time to make someone else feel that way.

I’ve been doing this a lot lately as I’ve been losing weight. As a plus-size girl, it’s hard to find clothes that fit just right, so I hang onto those perfect jeans or that magic shirt. When I donate them, I imagine another plus-size girl finding them and feeling so happy. It fills my heart. 

So maybe I can do one last test shoot with the props I plan to give away. Thank them for all the beautiful work they’ve helped me create. Then imagine another photographer losing their mind over them. 

That feels… doable. 

Getting My Money’s Worth (and Then Some) 

I’ma tell y’all a story about my mom. 

When I was little, my mom took us to Golden Corral once a year. Income tax season. She’d get a fat refund and take us with her. It was the highlight of our year. Even now, I get excited when I drive past a Golden Corral. 

Whenever we went, my mom stopped at every station. Took a bite of everything to “get her money’s worth.” Even when she was stuffed to the gills, she made room for dessert. Dinner rolls went in the purse. Drinks got refilled multiple times. 

She told my brothers and me we had to eat at least two plates. There would be NO WASTE because we weren’t coming back until next year. 

I guess I carried that same energy into adulthood. My motto is basically: get your money’s worth. 

I’m not frivolous with big expenses. When I buy something expensive, it’s an investment for years to come. I don’t replace things just because a newer model came out. Most of the time, I use my electronics until they’re basically bricks. I wear my clothes into the ground. 

My car is almost 14 years old, and I’ve had it for nearly 10. My friends joke that it’s time for a new one, and I joke back that I’m driving it until the damn wheels fall off. Why? Because I paid good money for it. 

Holding Onto What I’ve Invested In

My work camera is over eight years old.

It was bought brand new for $5K.

My laptop is slower than molasses, but I’ve had it for almost nine years… (okay, it is time to replace it… so, uh, hire yo girl so she can — sings in Beyoncé — upgraaaade it). 

I’ve worn the same glasses for 15 years. I paid nearly $300 for them. I’m getting my money’s worth. 

Applying the Same Logic to Props

It’s the same with my props. If I buy an insane $800 prop, I’m getting $800 worth of use out of it. LOL. I spent $180 on a wooden tabletop, and I plan to squeeze a few more shoots out of it if I can.

The workaround is asking myself: What else could this be used for? Could it live as home décor? Would my mom love it? Is there an upcoming shoot where this would shine? 

If the answer is no, then I let it go. I tell myself this prop is meant to shine — on camera. Not collect dust. Let it see the day. Give it new life. 

Making Space Without Erasing the Past When Letting Go of Photography Props

Letting Go Without Losing Meaning

Props are beautiful. But they’re also meant to be used for a season — or a reason. 

My collection is beautiful. But I also need to listen when it’s time to let something go. It’s okay to have emotional ties to props. That’s human. 

Like foster dog parents, sometimes the most loving thing is passing the leash. If they kept every dog, they couldn’t help the next one. It’s the ultimate act of love. 

Not to be dramatic about my props… but in order to create new and exciting work, I need to make space for it. 

And that starts in my prop loft. 

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Wanna help me use up these props before I release them into the wild? Book a shoot. Let’s make something beautiful while they’re still here.