Why I Sold My F3

I bought the F3 partly by chance and partly encouraged by its reputation as Nikon’s best analog camera. The first thing that immediately surprised me was how compact it was. I always imagined the F3 to be much larger. Perhaps the camera’s fame had inflated my imagination, making its imagined size far bigger than in reality. Maybe the Nikon F5 or even the F4 influenced my perception. I do not remember exactly. Yet the moment I first held it, I felt it was the embodiment of Japanese product quality of that era.

Before buying it, I read a lot about the F3’s durability and resilience in tough conditions. The fact that it was produced for over 20 years with hardly any changes is the best testimony to a well-thought-out and refined design. Its successor, the F4, came with autofocus and a host of other features that were missing from the older model. Yet even after the F5 was released, the Nikon F3 remained available. That speaks volumes about the timelessness of this design.

The Purchase

The F3 HP I managed to buy was equipped with the High-Eyepoint viewfinder. Its previous owner used it professionally, but she was not a war correspondent. The camera did not smell new but was nearly perfect. Having such a well-kept specimen gave me a unique opportunity to experience the legend of analog photography firsthand. 

After a quick inspection, I started attaching all the manual lenses I own. I tested even those old enough to remember a time when few households had a television. After two hours of testing and watching a couple of tutorial videos, I decided to load a roll of film and try it in practice. 

The first impressions were very positive. The F3 seemed like an ideal travel camera because of its size. It allowed for photography without drawing unnecessary attention. This is something I value greatly in cameras. I love my D200 and D700, but taking them out of a bag immediately attracts attention. People stop behaving naturally, and photos lose much of their authenticity. 

After a few shots, I began missing the traditional needle that indicates the correct exposure time. In analog photography, the needle’s guidance feels more intuitive to me. The small electronic display in the F3’s viewfinder, showing the selected shutter speed, did not suit me. Even though I knew about it before buying, in practice it clashed with my vision of classic cameras. In low light, it was sometimes hard to read the values. I tried to get used to it, but it never became my favorite feature.

I liked the camera’s design, and the aesthetics were flawless, but it never became my favorite. The handling and haptics were fine, yet it just did not click with me. Even the Nikon EL, although it cannot match the F3 technically, felt more fitting. Many F3 enthusiasts might find this controversial, but these were my genuine feelings. In life, sometimes we choose things not because they are objectively the best, but because they suit us. Some people drive an old car while others prefer the newest luxury sedan. Both are valid depending on what fits your lifestyle and habits. Photography is similar. We should use the cameras we enjoy most, not just those with the highest reputation. 

Another issue was the F3’s near-perfect condition given its age. It felt like an extra burden. I constantly worried about scratching my beautiful F3 and diminishing its value or appeal. After some time, I noticed I rarely took the F3 with me when going out to shoot. I took the camera in my travel bag less and less often. For the last roll I loaded, it took me six months to finally finish 36 frames. I realized it just was not the right camera for me. I liked how it looked, but I enjoyed photographing with other cameras more.

Eventually, the camera sat on a shelf and was barely used. After developing the last roll, the beautiful F3 designed by Giorgetto Giugiaro permanently became a shelf piece. It was regularly cleaned, but it increasingly felt like a display item.

Had I taken thousands of photos with it, and after some time the shutter failed, or if it had fallen into water on a trip, then it could have become a memento of old adventures. On the shelf, it was only an expensive toy and a symbol of Nikon’s analog cameras

During maintenance, I constantly marveled at the fact that after all these years, the camera worked as if it had just been made. Finally, it dawned on me that this was a camera made for professionals who worked in photography, not for a casual weekend shooter like me. Despite delaying the decision several times, I eventually chose to sell my F3.

The Sale

When the buyer arrived late in the afternoon, I knew within minutes that I had made the right choice. He brought along a heavily worn F3 for comparison and testing. For several minutes, he carefully checked everything, and I could see the growing excitement in his eyes. They sparkled like a child about to receive a long-desired toy. At that moment, two things became clear to me. First, this camera did not deserve to sit on a shelf in my collection. Second, the person in front of me was not a collector or a reseller, but a true F3 enthusiast. My earlier doubts about selling quickly vanished. Seeing a passionate user whose old F3 was still in action confirmed that my decision was completely right. For me, it was just a beautiful camera. For him, it was a treasure and a workhorse that would fuel his passion. We talked a little more about photography and vintage cameras before parting warmly. 

And me? An hour later, I stood in front of my shelf, wondering which camera to take for a walk.