The Phone That Wasn’t Enough

I thought my phone was good enough: easy, pocketable, and always with me. I took a lot of photos on trips, at parties and on walks, but something always felt off. The images looked fine, but they didn’t feel like photographs. They felt kind of processed and flat, just some bits and bytes on my phone.

Then a friend lent me their Fujifilm camera. I didn’t know much about Fuji at the time, but the first time I looked at a picture I took and saw the final product, it immediately felt more alive. The way the sky looked, the way shadows fell, the way skin tones felt somehow more real. I understood why people get obsessed with these cameras.

Falling in Love With the Look

After that, I discovered the mood.camera app. I spent hours in it, playing with filters, tweaking settings, trying to recreate the look of classic Fujifilm films. I would compare the app’s presets to photos I took with my phone, constantly trying to recreate that same feeling: a little (and sometimes too much) film grain, soft highlights, a warm but not oversaturated tone.

I also saw a lot of cameras on my trip to Japan -> used shops full of X‑series bodies, glass cases with X100 models, and people walking around with small, retro bodies that looked like they belonged in a 1970s film. Cameras just created a more interesting picture than smartphones ever did, and I realized I wanted to be part of that again.

The Rabbit Hole of Research

I read reviews, watched videos, and scrolled endlessly through forums. Somewhere in that rabbit hole, I found the Fujifilm X100VI. It sounded perfect for me: fixed lens, compact, APS‑C sensor, real rangefinder‑style experience, and of course, all of Fujifilm’s film simulations in one place. It felt like the camera that could finally turn my mood.camera fantasy into reality. But then I checked the price, and that’s where the dream hit reality. For my first “real” camera, it was just too much.

I’ve always suffered a bit from gear acquisition syndrome. A friend recently introduced me to that word. I like any gear, from tech to camping or cooking. I like reading about specs, thinking about the “best” camera, the lightest body, the fastest autofocus. I tell myself: If I only had the right camera, my photos would finally look good. But the more I researched, the more I realized I didn’t want the best camera. I wanted a camera that would make me take photos, not sit on a shelf as a tech trophy.

What Really Matters to Me

That’s when I started asking: What do I actually care about?
Not every megapixel. Not the absolute fastest autofocus. Not the fanciest body. I wanted the Fujifilm look. I wanted the same film simulations that I’d spent so much time thinking about and playing with. I wanted a camera that felt good to hold, small enough that I’d actually carry it everywhere, and that made me excited to take photos, rather than stressed about settings or specs.

I kept coming back to Fujifilm. Everything I loved, the color, mood and the way the camera looked and felt rooted in Fujifilm. The problem was that the X100VI, and even many used X‑series bodies, felt like luxury when all I really needed was a door into the system. I wanted to start with something that still felt Fujifilm but didn’t break the bank.

The Camera That Almost Slipped Past Me

Then I randomly found the X‑M5, which I somehow had missed. It’s small, even smaller than the X100 series. It has the same APS‑C X‑Trans sensor that gives Fujifilm its signature color. It supports all the film simulations I’d wanted to have and played with in the mood.camera app: Provia, Classic Chrome, Acros, Velvia, the whole lineup. The body itself is tiny, light and looks like a classic rangefinder without the symbolic price tag. It isn’t the X100VI, but it feels like the same world.

Choosing a Tiny Lens

I also thought about the lens. I wanted something very small, something that wouldn’t turn the compact body into a bulky setup. The Fujinon XF 27mm f/2.8 R WR pancake lens seemed like the perfect solution: tiny, light and still sharp, giving me that “standard” perspective that fits street and everyday shooting. However the price tag strikes once again...

The Compromise (and the Plan)

This seemed like the perfect solution. However, as gear acquisition goes, it still isn’t the “perfect solution” for me. But maybe I need to reconsider my approach to buying tech... maybe... (Probably won’t happen). In the meantime, I might just pick up the X‑M5 to stop my craving.

The Most Likely Outcome

So the most likely ending to this journey is:
I’m going to buy the Fujifilm X‑M5.
It’s not the X100VI. It’s not the ultimate camera. But it’s the right one for me right now: small, Fuji‑flavored and just expensive enough that I’ll actually use it instead of treating it like a holy object.

I will update this article in the future if I end up actually buying the camera or change my mind and spend an absurd amount of money…