Tried Sigma BF, and it's a quirky delight

I'm holding what appears to be a metal ingot in my hands. Not just any ingot, mind you, but one that's been painstakingly milled for seven hours from a single block of aluminium. It's angular and minimalist with just enough subtle contours to remind you it was designed for photography, not sculpture. This is the Sigma BF , and I'm already making a fool of myself over it.

This was me three weeks ago, now it's been what? 21 days and I'm still pretty much drooling over how foolishly gorgeous the BF is, and while I mostly have my thoughts in place by now for every other thing I have to try out and write about, this time I don't. Delhi's scorching heat has me sweating, but I had to do what I had to.

So, I went out a couple of days to shoot around the city, and even though it was tough going around handling a metal block in 35 degrees, I felt damn good at the end of the day. But why so? Am I just caught up in the honeymoon phase, or is there substance behind this obsession? Well, let me explain. And consider this more of an extended first impression—some relationships just need a bit more time to unfold.


To be simple is not easy


I know what you are thinking, like why would anyone name anything "beautiful foolishness," and if you have given this some thought, you'd think it's the design, just as I did. But, Sigma is onto something profound. There's a certain idiocy to creating a $2,000 camera with no with just just a 3.4 inches screen and a few buttons. No viewfinder, no flip screen, no hot shoe, no second strap lug (seriously, what?), and an interface stripped down to the absolute minimum. It's like Sigma looked at every other camera on the market and said, "Yeah, we're doing the opposite of that."




And yet... it works. Somehow.




It's an absolute eye-candy, I've had pretty much everyone who sees the BF, asking me to hold it, and just appreciate the fact that how different it looks. The body, milled from that single aluminium block (which limits production to just nine units per day), has a substantial heft that feels premium in a way plastic-clad cameras never will. But they all pause at the same point, those sharp edges? Not as uncomfortable as I feared, though I wouldn't call them ergonomic either.

Met the artist, now see it’s art



BF isn't just about its looks or its simplicity, it also clicks some gorgeous photos. The 24.6-megapixel full-frame sensor delivers crisp, detailed images with a color rendition that's immediately appealing.

Sigma sent the 50mm f/2 lens, a perfect match for street photography in Delhi's chaotic sceneries though quite peaceful in the scorching heat. The camera resolves the finest of elements with brilliant clarity, full of details, and you'd appreciate that when zooming in. The contrast renders beautifully, and the autofocus locks precisely onto textural details even as the harsh midday sun created challenging lighting conditions. The shots clicked after the sun set down had a fair amount of noise but the shadows and highlights were maintained perfectly.




Even though I stuck to standard preset largely, there are 12 colour presets to wheel through. My favourite? I was particularly drawn to the warm gold that gives pictures a nostalgic, slightly desaturated look that works beautifully with Delhi's earthy colour palette. I definitely should spend more time wheeling through them. Later, I guess.

Life's too short to be ordinary
Living with the BF isn't all aesthetic bliss. Some of the choices that Sigma have gone with can only be explained as either brilliant or maddening. Most people would complain about how foolish of a decision it would be to have a camera without a viewfinder, and I was one of those before I used one.

A few weeks ago, I had a Fujifilm XM-5 and Lumix S9 with me on a trip to Japan , both without a viewfinder, and if I'd be honest the limitations of not having a viewfinder on these cameras forced me to shoot differently. Without a viewfinder, I'm more connected to the scene. I'm the type of guy who doesn't press the shutter before I've found the perfect composition, and this camera makes me do that exactly. Without dozens of dials, I'm paying more attention to composition and moment.




The 256GB internal SSD is another reason that has me doing that on the BF. It holds plenty of images, and it's sort of relieving that I don't need to be carrying an SD card with me all times, but also the fact that I'm stuck with 230GB is something I worry about at times. The absence of wireless connectivity means everything transfers via USB-C cable, which feels strangely archaic in 2025.




The single strap lug remains another baffling design choice. I've been using a wrist strap, which works fine for short shoots but becomes fatiguing during all-day sessions. It's such an obvious oversight that I keep wondering if there's some philosophical reason behind it.

Some might even criticise the minimal control scheme—five buttons and a toggle wheel—and yes, it initially seemed too restrictive. But after a few days, I found myself spending less time fiddling with settings and more time actually shooting. The bare bones interface is just cherry on top. It’s just so much better than having seventeen custom function buttons and five dials to tweak. You press the centre button, select what you want to adjust, and start shooting. Simple.


Despite these quirks—or perhaps because of them—I've found myself reaching for the BF over my "proper" camera more often than not. There's an intangible quality to using it that makes photography feel fresh again.


This is the start of a beautiful friendship
Some of you will think I'm making a fool of myself over this camera, and yes I am. I've caught myself just staring at it on my desk. I've taken photos that I could have captured with my phone but reached for the BF instead. I've defended its quirks to skeptical photographer friends who can't understand why anyone would pay $2,000 for a camera with "missing" features.




But that's exactly the point. The BF exists not despite its limitations but because of them. In an era where cameras try to do everything, Sigma has created something that does less—but does it with intention and purpose. It's a camera that asks you to slow down, to be more deliberate, to embrace what Sigma calls "the beautiful foolishness of things."

Therein lies the quirky delight of the Sigma BF. It's not for everyone, and it's not trying to be. It's a beautiful fool in a world of sensible cameras, and sometimes that's exactly what photography needs — a little beautiful foolishness to remind us why we fell in love with the medium in the first place. Though, I'd need to come back to this, when I’m over what everyone’s saying is my honeymoon phase with the BF, and that could take some time, but we'd definitely know by then if BF's charm has worn off, or if I'm falling deeper.