05/06/2026
Sixteen years ago, a name my father gave me became the name of a company I never imagined would become my whole life.
It started with a box he just had to find while we unpacked our new house — his Minolta X700 (one I bring to every wedding) and a stack of photographs from his time in the military and his twenties in Europe. I was thirteen. We sat together for hours going through every image, and I caught a glimpse of a version of my father I had never seen before. That night he handed me that camera, and the rest is history.
I’ve told this story so many times. And it’s still my favorite one.
Because as a parent now, I understand something I couldn’t have understood at thirteen — you never know which moment will be the one that sticks. The one that quietly becomes a deep part of who your child is. My father had no idea that unpacking a box one evening would shape the entire direction of my life. He just knew he loved those photographs.
That’s why I do this. My boys have had cameras in their hands and paint on their fingers since they could walk. I think about shoot ideas on my days off. I find inspiration in everything around me. This was never just a company — it became the way I communicate, the way I make sense of the world.
I also can’t imagine anyone would look at my moody, cinematic, cry-at-every-ceremony work and guess that the person behind the lens is the same one skiing in questionable conditions, dancing completely unprompted, and ordering margaritas with genuinely alarming enthusiasm. But here we are. 🍹📷
To every couple who has trusted me with the most important moments of your lives — you are woven into this story too. What my father gave me that night wasn’t just a camera. It was the understanding that a single image can transport you back to something you thought was gone forever. That the ordinary moments are never really ordinary.
It’s not just your wedding day. It’s the version of you someone hasn’t seen yet. The one that deserves to be found and kept.
Sixteen years. Thank you for being part of it.
xo, Kiki
