Quality Over Quantity: Why You Don’t Need 1,000 Wedding Photos

Okay, let’s talk about something I hear all the time from couples (especially during that initial inquiry stage): “How many photos will we get?”
It’s a fair question. I get it, babe. But let me gently, lovingly—and maybe a little sassily—hold your hand and shift your focus from “how many” to what kind.

Because here’s the truth bomb no one talks about: You don’t want 1,000 wedding photos.

You think you do. But you don’t.

Let’s Get Real: You’re Not Printing 1,000 Fucking Photos

Do you know how many photos you’re actually going to frame, post, or look back on with tears in your eyes?
About 75, maybe 100 if you’re really sentimental or your mom is on your case about making an album. The rest? They’ll live in a Dropbox folder you’ll open once a year, if that.

So if that’s the case… why the hell are we still pretending more = better?

I’m a Springfield, MO-based wedding photographer who’s been doing this for over a decade. I’ve photographed everything from backyard queer elopements to weird museum weddings with taxidermy and tequila shots. What I’ve learned is this: you don’t want hundreds of photos of the same damn moment.

What you really want is the good shit.
The teary, blurry, beer-soaked flash moments. The weird double exposure of you two dancing under a streetlight. That one perfect shot where your partner is looking at you like you invented gravity.

That’s the stuff you hang on your wall. Not 47 nearly identical photos of a tablescape. Please.

This Isn’t an Inventory Sheet—It’s Art

Let me say that again:
This is not a checklist. This is not a corporate deliverable. This is fuuuucking art.

You hired me because I don’t take cookie-cutter photos. You didn’t choose me because I’m going to robotically document every single inch of your wedding venue. You chose me because I’m going to capture what it felt like—how the air buzzed right before you kissed, the way your hands naturally find each other in a crowd, the tiny grin you gave your partner when no one else was looking.

That’s not something you can fake.
That’s not something that requires 1,000 shots to get right.
That’s something that takes intuition, trust, and a damn good eye.

And guess what? I’ve got all three, bestie.

Why You’ll Actually Love Having Fewer Photos

I know your brain says “more = better.” But your heart knows otherwise. Here’s why:

1. Curation saves you from decision fatigue.

Getting a gallery with 1,000+ photos is overwhelming. Trust me, I’ve been there. When we got engaged, we got a gallery link that contained 367 photos, and that was just from a 40 minute session! But guess what? When I opened it and went through the photos, I immediately felt dread trying to fish out the good ones out of the hundreds of throwaways that were in the album. With a wedding??? You scroll and scroll and scroll, and suddenly all the photos start to blend together. You’re exhausted, you forgot what you were even looking for, and you still haven’t picked one to print. Fucking yikes.

But when you get a gallery with, say, 300 killer images that are intentionally chosen and edited—every one of them a certified banger—you actually enjoy going through them. They hit harder. They mean more.

2. You’re not paying me to dump files.

You’re investing in my eye. My ability to capture what matters. My discernment. Anyone with a camera can walk around clicking for 8 hours straight and end up with 2,000 photos. But those aren’t the ones you’ll treasure.

What you’re paying for is someone who knows when to hit the shutter and when to wait. Who sees the light, the emotion, the micro-moment that most people miss—and captures it in a way that feels timeless and electric. Someone who knows that you don’t need five shots of the same floral arrangement from different angles. You just need the right one.

3. It makes the whole experience less stressful.

For both of us.
When I’m not obsessively trying to shoot every single second of the day like I’m documenting a crime scene, I can be more present. I can anticipate moments instead of react to them. I can get weird with angles and play with light and flash and motion blur—all the stuff that makes my work feel like something, not just show something.

And for you? You can relax. You’re not “on” all day. You’re not constantly wondering if I got “the shot.” You can trust that I’m here to make you look and feel your weirdest, hottest, most loved-up selves.

“But I Want Every Moment Captured!”

Totally fair. And guess what? You’ll get every important moment. I swear. You’re not going to miss out on anything that actually matters. From the pre-ceremony jitters to the late-night pizza bites, I’m on it.

But let me be honest: some “moments” are just… not worth saving 12 versions of.
You don’t need:

• Five shots of someone adjusting a boutonniere.
• Seven near-identical photos of your cake before it’s even cut.
• Twenty blurry crowd shots of people who don’t matter to you (who the fuck is your cousin’s girlfriend anyway?).

What you do need?

• That one shot of your grandma giving you a knowing smile during the vows.
• The way your partner’s hand rests on your back while you talk to friends.
• The smudged eyeliner and glitter after you’ve been dancing your ass off for two hours.

Those are the keepers. The ones you’ll show your grandkids. The ones you’ll put in a frame. The ones that feel like you.

Especially for My Queer & Non-Traditional Babes

If you’re an LGBTQ+ couple, an alt couple, a nerdy couple, a tatted-up, dive-bar-loving, glitter-wearing duo of weirdos—this matters even more.

Because I know you’ve probably been told that your wedding “should” look a certain way. That there’s a formula to follow. A way you’re supposed to stand, smile, celebrate.

Fuck that.
You don’t need 1,000 images to prove you belong.
You need 200-ish photos that make you say “Oh my god, that’s so us.”

You need a photographer who gets you, who celebrates what makes you different, and who doesn’t treat your wedding day like just another gig.

As a queer-friendly elopement photographer based in Springfield, Missouri—and someone who grew up in a town of 700 feeling like the weird poor kid—I know how important it is to feel seen, safe, and celebrated in front of the camera. Your love deserves to be captured with intention. Not excess.

TL;DR: You’re Not Hiring a Camera, You’re Hiring a Vision

You’re not just getting a wedding gallery. You’re getting artwork. You’re getting storytelling. You’re getting a visual love letter made just for you and your person.

So no, I won’t be dumping 2,000 photos into your inbox. I’ll be giving you the gold—the punchy, vibrant, true-to-color, emotion-packed photos that actually mean something. The kind of photos you’ll cry over, laugh over, send to your friends, and hang in your home for the next 40 years.

You get less clutter and more meaning. Less pressure and more ease. Less noise and more you.

If That Sounds Like Your Kind of Experience…

I’d love to tell your story. Whether you’re eloping in the Ozarks, getting hitched in a Springfield dive bar, or throwing a glitter-drenched queer celebration in the middle of Missouri—I’m here for it.

Let’s ditch the checklists. Let’s make art. Let’s make it feel like you.

Inquire now to get this party started, or creep around my site a little longer at chelseastanford.com—I won’t judge.