Through My Glass: The Lenses I Can’t Leave Home Without

People often ask, “What lens do you use?” as if I’ve got a secret recipe tucked away somewhere. The short answer is: whatever lens happens to be bolted to the camera at the time. The long answer? Well, grab a chair, because this blog is basically me emptying my camera bag onto the table like a magician pulling rabbits out of hats—only my rabbits are made of glass and come with lens caps I’ve definitely lost.

I don’t carry all my lenses every day (my spine would go on strike), but each one has its own personality, quirks, and those golden moments where it makes me look far more talented than I really am. Think of them as a slightly dysfunctional family—you wouldn’t invite them all to dinner at once, but each has their place.

Pro tip before we dive in: when I’m heading somewhere new, I often Google what other photographers have shot there. Not to copy (that’s cheating), but to get a sense of the angles worth chasing. From there, I’ll usually pick two lenses—the photographic equivalent of choosing the right shoes for the weather.

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RF 35mm f/1.8 Macro – The Storyteller

If my lenses were people, the 35mm would be that mate at the pub who notices everything—the guy who’ll whisper, “He’s on his third pint of Guinness already and it’s only half six.” It’s intimate, quick, and perfect for street photography and candid shots. You can slip into people’s lives without them noticing, like a polite ninja with decent autofocus.

• Pros: Light, sharp, versatile. A dream in low light.

• Cons: Not so flattering for portraits. Unless you want Uncle Dave’s nose to look like the Matterhorn.

• Favourite moment: Catching a fleeting grin between two strangers on a bench in Southampton—gone in a heartbeat, but frozen forever.

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RF 24-105mm f/4 L – The Swiss Army Knife

This is my “sensible shoes” lens. If I don’t know what the day’s going to throw at me—landscapes, portraits, seagulls attempting theft—it’s the 24-105mm I reach for. It’s versatile enough to cover everything, and reliable enough to handle British weather (so: sideways rain).

• Pros: Big range, sturdy build, weather-sealed.

• Cons: f/4 means it’s not exactly the Usain Bolt of low-light shooting. And it’s chunky enough that people spot you immediately—so much for candid.

• Favourite moment: On a windswept Ilfracombe beach, I switched from wide seascapes to close-up driftwood textures in seconds. The lens earned its pint that day.

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RF 85mm f/2 Macro – The Portraitist

This one’s my brooding artist. The 85mm compresses a scene just enough to add drama, giving portraits and street shots that extra bit of weight. It’s not subtle, though. Walk down the street with this strapped on and you might as well wear a sign saying, “Don’t mind me, I’m totally not photographing you.”

• Pros: Creamy, dreamy bokeh. Sharp as a tack when the subject sits still.

• Cons: Autofocus moves at about the same pace as me on a Monday morning. Not great with moving targets.

• Favourite moment: A portrait where the subject looked like they were in deep, life-changing thought. Truth was, they were probably just wondering where the nearest Greggs was.

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EF 100mm f/2.8 L Macro (via adapter) – The Specialist

Ah, the eccentric uncle of the bunch. The one who turns up to Christmas dinner with a telescope, insists on showing you the moon, then gives unsolicited advice about composting. This isn’t an everyday lens, but when it works, it’s jaw-dropping. I’ve used it to dive into macro worlds (leaf veins, insect wings) and then seconds later for portraits sharp enough to reveal pores I didn’t know existed.

• Pros: Stunning sharpness, versatile, weather-sealed.

• Cons: A little clunky with the adapter. Autofocus isn’t the quickest.

• Favourite moment: Shooting the intricate details of a flower, then pivoting and capturing a portrait that looked so sharp it could’ve been printed on a scalpel.

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How I Choose

Choosing a lens is like choosing shoes:

• The 35mm is my comfy trainers for wandering streets.

• The 24-105mm is the reliable boots that work anywhere.

• The 85mm is the moody brogue—stylish, but not always practical.

• The 100mm is the specialist hiking boot with crampons. Amazing when needed, weird if worn to Tesco.

But here’s the thing—lenses matter, sure, but not nearly as much as how you see the world. Even a pigeon with a disposable camera could tell a story. (Granted, their portfolio would be 80% chips, 20% accidental wing selfies.)