Dust Bunnies and Gear Piles—A Love Story You Never Wanted
We’ve all been there. You’re rummaging through the closet for that one lens pouch you “absolutely know” is around here somewhere. In the process, you knock over a sad pile of vintage film cameras that haven’t tasted a fresh roll of 35mm in a decade, accidentally tug on the strap of an archaic DSLR body, and almost trip over the ancient tripod with the squeaky leg locks. Before you know it, you’re cursing under your breath, wading through an ocean of bubble wrap and half-forgotten camera accessories like a lost explorer forging into uncharted territory. That, my friends, is the comedic tragedy of the gear hoard: a well-intentioned stash that has devolved into a booby-trapped labyrinth of lens caps, dusty camera bags, and old receipts for items you don’t even remember buying.
How did we get here? The short answer: somewhere along the journey of photographic enthusiasm, we all discovered the thrill of gear acquisition. You might recognize the pattern—first, you get your starter DSLR or mirrorless camera. It feels lonely without a telephoto. Then you decide you need a fast prime. Next comes a wide angle. Perhaps you dabble in a vintage lens or two because you fell down a YouTube rabbit hole. Multiply that by a few holiday sales, impulse buys, and a pinch of FOMO (fear of missing out), and—voilà!—your once-pristine photography shelf is now a haphazard, toppling tower of gear.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Collecting camera equipment can be fun. There’s a certain charm to rummaging through your gear bag, reacquainting yourself with everything you’ve accumulated. It’s like meeting old friends—each piece of equipment might conjure memories of a photoshoot in a picturesque place or that fleeting moment you captured on a whim. But what happens when your “collection” turns into a mindless hoard? You end up with boxes of old batteries, random cords from defunct camera models, old kit lenses that are basically paperweights, or a handful of half-broken lens hoods jammed into corners. You’re effectively tripping over creative potential while ironically stifling your growth. And let’s be honest: stepping on a lens hood is nowhere near as painful as stepping on a stray Lego, but it’s still pretty annoying (and a little heartbreaking).
So, if you’ve ever caught yourself feeling overwhelmed by the mountain of camera gear you aren’t using—and if you suspect that gear might do better in someone else’s hands—this piece is for you. We’re going to talk about why having too much equipment doesn’t make you a better photographer, how to break out of this misguided mindset, and how selling your neglected gear could be the best creative spark you’ve had in years. Brace yourself—things might get real. But hey, if you can withstand telling your camera-collecting alter ego to take a hike, you can handle anything.
Part I: The False Sense of Security—'Surely I’ll Use This…Eventually'
One of the most pervasive myths among photographers is that owning more gear automatically translates into being more prepared for every conceivable photographic scenario. It’s an understandable thought process: “If I have a lens for every focal length, a backup for every lens, a second camera body, a range of accessories, and five tripods, I’ll never be caught off guard.” On paper, that might make sense—until you realize that half (or more) of what you own hasn’t actually seen the light of day in months or even years.
This desire for more equipment can become an unconscious security blanket. On a psychological level, accumulating gear feeds the notion that if you own the tools, you also own the skills. But that’s like saying if you own a professional chef’s knife, you must be able to cook Michelin-star meals. Owning camera equipment you barely use is not a protective talisman against missed shots or creative slumps. In fact, hoarding gear can distract you from the real work: learning how to make the best use of the gear you do use regularly.

Photography, at its core, is about seeing the world creatively and telling a story through images. Your camera is just the medium—just like a paintbrush for a painter or a pen for a writer. Gaining mastery with a limited set of tools forces you to get innovative. It encourages problem-solving. It hones your instincts. When you’re always “gear-hopping,” you miss out on the opportunity to deeply know a specific camera-lens combo. Instead of refining your technique and learning how to coax the best images out of a simpler kit, you’re too busy daydreaming about the next lens or rummaging around for the rarely used flash you bought on clearance.
The false security also manifests itself in the fear of missing out on a particular shot. “What if I go on vacation and suddenly need a 600mm f/4 lens to capture distant wildlife? Better buy that big boy and lug it along—just in case.” Truthfully, if you’re not a dedicated wildlife or sports photographer, that lens might see use once or twice a year—if that. Meanwhile, you could be investing your time and money into experiences that actually improve your craft. By letting these “just in case” scenarios drive your buying habits, you wind up paralyzed by the weight of your gear bag—literally and figuratively.
Owning an arsenal of specialized lenses and cameras isn’t inherently bad if you’re genuinely using them. If you’re a professional who regularly shoots a variety of assignments—weddings, sports, portraits, architecture—it makes sense to have different gear for each scenario. But if you’re a hobbyist or a niche specialist, carting around excessive hardware is more of a creative drain than a boon. You might be better served by focusing on the one or two setups that truly align with your interests and style.
Let’s talk about skill development. Many seasoned pros advocate using a single prime lens for extended periods to hone composition, anticipate shots, and develop an intuitive relationship with the lens’s focal length. Similarly, forcing yourself to adapt to a single camera body can make you intimately familiar with its behavior in different lighting conditions, its autofocus quirks, its dynamic range limitations. Ultimately, knowledge and practice are what make great photographers, not a towering shelf of underused cameras.
The message here is simple: more gear does not necessarily equal more creativity or better images. Sure, gear matters to an extent. Lenses shape how light hits the sensor and define the look of your photos. Cameras define certain technical boundaries. Accessories can open new possibilities. But none of that will matter if they stay stuck in a closet, collecting dust. When you rely on the crutch of overabundance, you risk missing out on the personal growth that comes from truly mastering a leaner setup.
If you find yourself drifting toward “But I might need it someday,” remember this: the best photographs happen because of a photographer’s readiness to see and capture a moment, not because they have a random piece of gear that might come in handy once every leap year. And if you do eventually need a specialized lens for a brief project, guess what? You can rent it. You do not need to own every possible piece of camera equipment. Stop using the “what-if” scenario as justification for building a home for orphaned camera gear.
Part II: Your Selling Roadmap—From Gear Graveyard to Liquid Gold
So, you’ve decided it’s time to free yourself from the shackles of photographic clutter. Awesome! But how do you actually go about selling your gear without getting overwhelmed? Let’s break down a step-by-step roadmap that will take you from a jumbled mess to a streamlined, profitable enterprise.
Step 1: Inventory Everything
First things first: grab a notebook or open a spreadsheet. Go through every nook and cranny where you keep photo equipment—your closet, that drawer in your desk, the trunk of your car if that’s where you stash stuff. Write down each item, along with the following details:
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Item Name and Model
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Condition (Excellent, Good, Fair, Broken, etc.)
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Purchase Date and Cost (if you still have receipts or a vague memory)
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Any Included Accessories (lens caps, bags, filters)
This inventory not only gives you a bird’s-eye view of how much stuff you own, but also helps you decide what’s actually worth selling and what might be better off donated, recycled, or trashed (like broken items not worth repairing).
Step 2: Sort Gear Into Categories
Once you have your master list, sort each item into categories like “Essential,” “Occasionally Used,” “Never or Hardly Used,” and “Broken/Obsolete.” If you’re honest, you’ll probably find that a good chunk of your gear falls into the latter categories. Ask yourself some tough questions: When was the last time I used this item? Does it fill a unique role that no other gear covers? Will it realistically get used in the next six months?
Your “Essential” category might include a primary camera body, your go-to lens or two, and any accessories you truly rely on (like a high-quality tripod, a flash you use for client work, or a must-have filter). The rest is fair game for selling.
Step 3: Research the Market
Before listing your items, you need a ballpark idea of what they’re worth. Check online marketplaces such as eBay, MPB, B&H Photo’s used section, or local buy/sell/trade forums. Look for your specific model and note the condition and the average selling price. You might be pleasantly surprised to see that certain lenses (especially older manual focus gems) still have good resale value. On the flip side, older digital camera bodies may not fetch as much as you hope—technology moves fast. That’s okay. Some money is better than no money. Price realistically, based on what people are actually paying, not what you personally think the item is worth.
Step 4: Choose the Right Platform(s)
There are multiple routes for selling your gear:
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Online Marketplaces (eBay, Etsy for vintage/film, Mercari, etc.)
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Why: Wide audience, competitive bidding can yield higher prices for sought-after items.
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Specialized Photography Forums or Facebook Groups
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Why: Buyers are usually more knowledgeable and target specific gear.
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Camera Retailers That Buy Used Gear (MPB)
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Why: Quick, hassle-free transactions, shipping covered in many cases.
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Local Classifieds and Apps (Craigslist, OfferUp, Facebook Marketplace)
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Why: No fees, immediate cash transactions, potential to avoid shipping.
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Note: Ensure your personal safety if you go this route. Meet in a police station lobby and don't follow through on any transaction if it doesn't feel right.
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Select the platform based on your comfort, the item type, and how quickly you need the cash. For example, if you’re selling a popular lens in mint condition, you might get a great price on eBay. If you have a big lot of gear you just want gone, a buyback from MPB might be simpler.
Step 5: Prepare Your Items for Sale
Presentation is everything. Clean your lenses (use proper lens cleaning tools!), dust off the camera bodies, and gather all original packaging, manuals, and accessories if you have them. The more complete the package, the easier it is to command a better price. Take well-lit photos of each item from multiple angles—front, back, sides, lens mount, etc. Show any signs of wear or scratches. Honesty in your listing helps prevent returns and builds trust.
When writing descriptions, be clear and detailed:
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Include the shutter count (if selling a camera body).
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List any known issues—focusing quirks, cosmetic scuffs, or missing accessories.
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Mention why you’re selling it. (“Switching systems,” “No longer needed,” etc.)
The goal is to reassure potential buyers that you’re a conscientious seller, not someone offloading junk.
Step 6: Set a Fair (but Firm) Price
Once you’ve done your market research, decide on a fair asking price. If you’re willing to negotiate, list it slightly above the average selling price. If you want a quick sale, price it on the lower end of the spectrum. Keep an eye on completed listings rather than active ones to see what items actually sold for. This prevents you from living in a fantasy land of inflated prices.
Step 7: Manage Communications and Transactions
If you’re selling online, be prepared for questions from potential buyers. Stay responsive. Provide additional photos or details if asked. Use secure payment methods or credit cards through reputable platforms. If you’re selling locally, meet in a public place (police station lobbies are a good spot), consider bringing a friend, and verify payment on the spot. Don’t hand over gear until you’re 100% sure the funds have cleared or you’re satisfied with cash on hand.
Step 8: Ship Safely (If Applicable)
If shipping gear, double-box fragile items. Use bubble wrap, packing peanuts, or specialized camera gear boxes. Purchase shipping insurance, especially for expensive items. Provide tracking information promptly to your buyer. Good packaging and communication prevent negative feedback and potential disputes.
Step 9: Reinvest or Save the Proceeds
Congratulations! You sold your unused gear and have a freshly padded PayPal balance or envelope of cash. Now is the time to put that money to work. Options include:
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Enroll in Workshops/Courses: Hone your lighting or editing skills.
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Buy One High-Quality Lens: Something that truly elevates your photography, rather than collecting cheap gear.
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Travel/Experience: Plan a photo trip to a place you’ve always wanted to capture.
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Upgrade Your Existing Setup: If you genuinely need a better body or lens for your specialty, now you have the funds.
Alternatively, you could just stash the money in savings. There’s no rule that says you have to reinvest in photography immediately. The key is that your old gear is no longer a dust magnet—it’s now an asset fueling your next creative moves.
Part III: Keeping Yourself From Relapsing
Selling your clutter is a big step. But how do you prevent a relapse into old habits? Gear acquisition syndrome (GAS) is a real thing in the photography world. Without discipline, you might find yourself slipping back into accumulating more stuff than you need. Here’s how to maintain accountability:
1. The 'One-In, One-Out' Policy
Adopt a simple rule: For every new piece of gear you buy, you must sell or donate one existing piece. This ensures your total amount of gear remains stable. If you genuinely need a new flash unit, then maybe let go of that older backup flash that’s been idling for years. The advantage? You’re forced to critically assess each new purchase, deciding whether it’s worth giving up something else.
2. Schedule Quarterly Gear Purges
Every three months, set aside an hour or two to review your gear. Has something gone unused since the last purge? If so, question why. If there’s no legitimate need, move it to the sell/donate pile. Doing this regularly prevents build-up and maintains a conscious awareness of your photography inventory.
3. Find a Gear-Swap or Accountability Partner
Team up with a friend or local photography group to keep each other in check. If you belong to a club that meets monthly, add a quick “gear corner” segment where members can trade, sell, or pledge to clear out certain items. Having someone to answer to can make a huge difference in whether you follow through. It also helps to have objective opinions on whether your justification for a new purchase is sound or just a symptom of impulsiveness.
4. Keep a “Gear Wishlist” Journal

5. Limit Exposure to Temptations
We live in a world saturated with ads, influencers, and sponsored content touting the latest must-have camera. If you’re prone to GAS, consider limiting your exposure. Unsubscribe from gear-obsessed YouTube channels or marketing emails from camera retailers. Focus on educational or technique-focused content rather than product reviews. The less you’re bombarded by shiny new toys, the less likely you’ll be to fall prey to the hype machine.
Conclusion: Making Room for Growth, Clarity, and Creativity
Stepping away from the comfort of a gear stockpile might feel daunting at first. There’s a sense of security in having that extra camera body or that super-telephoto lens “just in case.” But remember, letting go of gear isn’t giving up. It’s a bold move to reclaim your creative focus and direct your resources—time, energy, money—toward developing your craft. By selling unused equipment, you’re literally converting dormant potential into active investments in your photography journey. That could mean a new lens that truly expands your creative range, a workshop that reignites your passion, or a trip that offers priceless experiences and photos you’ll cherish forever.
Learning to let go also grants you mental clarity. Imagine a workspace free of clutter, where every piece of gear has a purpose and a place. Imagine feeling lighter, unburdened by the guilt of owning things you never use. Imagine opening your closet and not getting attacked by a falling pile of lens boxes. Visualizing that freedom is step one; acting on it is what propels you forward. By consciously choosing to sell the items you’ve outgrown, you’re saying “yes” to what truly matters: growth as an artist.
Photography is a dance between vision and equipment, but the vision comes first. You don’t need a basement full of random gear to create captivating images. You just need an instrument you know intimately, plus a spark of curiosity to explore the world through your lens. Simplifying your kit can sharpen your perspective. It compels you to push the limits of what you already own, to discover new ways of shooting, and to focus on the art rather than the apparatus.
Here’s the bottom line: every unused camera body, lens, or accessory in your closet is robbing you of space, mental clarity, and potential funds that could be fueling your artistry. Don’t let your passion for photography become a drag on your finances or your peace of mind. Take a stand, make that inventory, list those items, and watch as your photographic journey becomes more purposeful and energizing than ever.
And remember: Sell your crap before it collects enough dust to be mistaken for a prehistoric relic—your creativity (and wallet) will thank you!
I use all of my gear until it doesn't function anymore, and the price of repair is more costly than the value of the item. So when I am finished with a camera or lens, it really doesn't have any value left. I mean it may be worth a few bucks as a "parts only" piece, but at that point the few dollars I could get for it are not worth the time and unpleasantness of finding it, photographing it, editing the pics, making the online listing, packaging it for shipping, communicating with buyers, etc. Even selling everything "as is" to MPB or KEH is not worth the effort of taking inventory, emailing the buyer, and packing it for shipping. So the old stuff just sits somewhere in a huge pile of stuff on my living room floor.