Skip to content

Shopping Bag

Your shopping bag is empty.

NEW STYLES ADDED

NEW STYLES ADDED

Last chance to shop the sale.
UP TO 40% OFF
25% OFF SITEWIDE

25% OFF SITEWIDE

Exclusions Apply. Details
SHOP NOW
EXTRA 10% OFF EARRINGS

EXTRA 10% OFF EARRINGS

When you buy 2 or more pairs
SHOP EARRINGS
FAST & FREE SHIPPING

FAST & FREE SHIPPING

On orders over $100. Details
SHOP NOW

Nikita Gross Page

She wasn’t just looking for a good shot; she was looking for a confession. For twenty years, her work had been a visual diary of "retelling the same story". It was a story about being seen, about the vulnerability of the human body, and the mysticism hidden in everyday grief and joy.

: She heavily utilizes Polaroid, 35mm film, and Super 8mm video to achieve a "dreamy, filtered" aesthetic.

: Her work often explores the "divine" and the "sacred" within human experience. Nikita Gross

As the white square of film slid from the camera, Nikita watched the colors bloom. It wasn't perfect; it was grainy and unpredictable, just the way she liked it. It captured something deeper than a face—it captured a "ritual of witnessing". For Nikita, this was the surrender. This was the prayer. She was no longer just a photographer; she was a conduit for a truth that couldn't be spoken, only felt. Creative Themes of Nikita Gross

The subject of her lens today was an elderly woman for her "Ode to the Crone" project. As Nikita invited her to breathe—a ritual she performed as much for herself as for her subjects—the woman let out a long, shaky exhale. In that breath, the tension of decades seemed to dissolve. Nikita pressed the shutter. The mechanical click of her vintage Polaroid was the only sound in the quiet air. She wasn’t just looking for a good shot;

: Her projects cover the full spectrum of existence, from births to "walking towards death".

: She prioritizes "open hearts" and "honest truth," creating a space where subjects feel safe to be their truest selves. : She heavily utilizes Polaroid, 35mm film, and

The camera in Nikita’s hands felt less like a tool and more like an extension of her own nervous system. Standing in the middle of a sun-drenched field in Cincinnati, she waited for the exact moment the light would soften—that fleeting second where the world looked less like a place and more like a memory.