The Daily Performance of Femininity Through Photography

Zoé de Meulemeester draws inspiration from the women around her, who strongly influence her work. Based in Brussels, she studied Arts & Design and Photography in England before completing a BA at l’ESA le 75 in Brussels. She later worked at Lisbon’s XYZ Books, where she published her first photography book, ‘Des Falaises, Du Vent’. Some of her works are now featured in the online exhibition ‘Good Girl!’.

Could you comment on one (or more) of the works in the ‘Good Girl!’ exhibition that was influenced by the women in your life? How did their influence shape the themes or creative approach in these pieces? 

I work in a very instinctive way, so it’s difficult for me to choose a single image that represents femininity. The photos in the ‘Des Falaises, Du Vent’ project were taken between 2020 and 2024. I  carried my little point-and-shoot camera everywhere, photographing anything that inspired me or that I found beautiful. Later, when I decided to make a book from these images, the theme of femininity emerged. 

While editing and eventually showing these images to someone else, I realized that many of them evoked the act of performing for me. I also noticed that I rarely photograph the men in my life or men in general.

These images reflect how I identify as a woman and how I perceive womanhood.

What approach do you use to translate the multifaceted energy of women into visual images? 

I don’t think I consciously translate the multifaceted energy of women. My images convey my own energy, and I hope other women can relate to it. They are a reflection of my personal point of view and feelings.

The photos in the ‘Good Girl!’ exhibition are in black and white. Why did you choose this technique for your work? 

Initially, I chose black-and-white film because it’s cheaper. These images come from my daily life, and I take a lot of pictures. Using more affordable film meant I wasn’t afraid to shoot extensively, which allowed me to produce a lot of work. Over time, I became accustomed to the aesthetic of black and white and started seeing my images primarily in terms of light rather than color. 

I’m someone who constantly needs to change mediums to stay inspired. After publishing my book and realizing there was an underlying narrative to these everyday images, I couldn’t take more photos in the same style—it no longer felt inspiring. That’s when I started a new project with Polaroids.

What was it like for you to publish your first book? How does this format contribute to the storytelling or legacy of your work?

I’ve always been fascinated by the book format—how placing two individual images on a page can create a new story, and how, page by page, editorial choices (like paper, binding, format, or layout)  can give a series of images countless narratives. This process fascinates me. 

When I published my book, I was working as an intern at XYZ Books, a Lisbon-based publishing house. During some downtime, I asked the editors, Tiago and Pedro, if I could work on a personal project in their studio. I printed all my images and started editing them with their guidance. That’s how the subject emerged and the project took shape. From the very beginning, the goal was to make a book. I never even considered an exhibition or any other format—it felt obvious to me that this was meant to be a book.  

Making a book also means creating a finished object. I like the finality it represents. I love the idea of starting a project, completing it, and then offering it to the world. 

The theme of femininity will always be part of my work, and I appreciate now having the opportunity to explore it through other mediums and formats.

As a photographer, what do you love most about Brussels? 

Brussels is home. I cherish it as much as I cherish my family and friends. 

Creatively and photographically, I have a complicated relationship with the city. It’s where I studied photography, so I associate it with academic work. It took me a long time to make it my own and to take personal photos here. 

But Belgium has its charm—there’s beauty in its absurdity.