There’s a certain reverence in Alan Meeks’ voice when he talks about fashion photography—the kind of hushed awe reserved for religion or jazz. “Everything has an image,” he tells me. “We just have to see it.” And he’s seen it all.
He studied Herb Ritts, idolized Patrick Demarchelier, and dodged Romeo’s unpaid invoices.
Raised in Birmingham, Alabama, Meeks didn’t just take photos—he sculpted them. He earned his photography degree from the University of Alabama back in the ’70s, but it was 1975 when he truly fell in love with the craft. “Herb Ritts, man. I studied his work in college. Loved his style,” he says, pausing like he’s visualizing one of Ritts’ high-contrast classics.
By the late ’80s and ’90s, Meeks was more than just a man with a camera—he was a talent scout, a mentor, and a Southern visionary with an eye on Paris. At one point, he had six models signed to Elite Model Management New York. “Karen Lee helped me early on,” he tells me, name-dropping the iconic fashion connector with deep respect. “She developed my eye for international fashion.”
And that eye took him far. Central Park for Ralph Lauren’s Vintage Collection. Runway shows in Chicago, Atlanta, Miami, and even Brazil. Romeo Hunte’s men’s and women’s collections in New York—work that, unfortunately, landed in Vogue without so much as a photo credit.
“That’s the hard part,” he admits. “You trust people. They publish your work. And sometimes they forget to mention who was behind the lens.” His honesty is raw, unfiltered. The kind that comes after years of navigating the back alleys of fashion’s glossy front.
The pandemic hit hard. Not just professionally, but physically. Meeks suffered a heart attack five years ago, and then his creative circle—his trusted glam squad—dispersed. “My makeup artist moved to Atlanta. We all used to work for the same goal: Vogue. Bazaar. The big brands.”
But Alan never stopped studying. Never stopped dreaming. “I wanted to be as good as Patrick Demarchelier,” he confesses. “His class. His cool.” And then there’s Testino. “Mario has a good eye… if he’d just leave the ‘you know what’ alone,” he says, with a chuckle and just enough Southern shade to keep it real.
Alan Meeks Has Nothing to Prove, But Everything to Shoot
When I ask about a comeback, his voice shifts. “I would love that,” he says. “I miss it a lot.” He still believes in fashion, still scrolls through the trends, still visualizes the perfect shot. “Being from Alabama and ending up photographing for Ralph Lauren in New York… that was special.”
Meeks also captured the raw energy of legends like KISS and Joe Bonamassa, armed with a coveted photo pass and a backstage view of rock history. He’s that rare hybrid: the high-fashion mind with a rock & roll soul.
“Everything’s changed now,” he says, almost wistfully. “But I still love it. I still see images.” You get the feeling he’s not quite done yet.
So if you’re a designer in need of a true artist—or a model looking to be seen the way the greats used to see—call Alan. Because behind that camera is a man with decades of stories, skill, and soul. A man who made it from Birmingham to the pages of Vogue, even if they forgot to credit his name.
But don’t worry. We’re putting it in bold.
Alan Meeks
📍 Birmingham, Alabama
🌐 Website | Kavyar Portfolio
📷 Instagram: @alanmeeksphotography
