THAT ARNOLD

There are messages you answer politely.

And then there are messages where your brain immediately starts packing the camera bag for you.

Mona sent me one of those:

“I bought cute lingerie. You bring your camera. I’ll make crêpes.”

I mean.

Come on. 🙃

This was 7 September 2021, in Valencia. I had photographed Mona before, so I already knew she had that kind of energy I love in front of the camera: petite, bubbly, playful, expressive, and somehow always making things feel easy.

She was French, but from Réunion Island, with this tropical, no-worries kind of vibe. Her Spanish and English were both a little imperfect, my French was basically decorative, so we mixed everything together and let the smiles do half the work.

And honestly, with that cute French accent, it worked perfectly.

I arrived with my camera and two softboxes.

She opened the door in pink Victoria’s Secret lingerie, holding an egg.

“Ready to make crêpes?”

I don’t remember exactly what I said.

But I remember what I thought:

Hell yeah. Let’s go.

Her boyfriend was home too, by the way. A professional footballer, completely unbothered, playing FIFA in another room while Mona made crêpes and I tried not to drop my camera into the batter.

Legendary behavior.

The kitchen was small, old-school, and absolutely not designed for a photoshoot. But Mona made it work: cracking eggs, laughing, stirring, flipping crêpes, and correcting me when I almost called them pancakes.

Important lesson: never call French crêpes pancakes.

Mona made crêpes.

I made photos.

And apparently, that is how you accidentally create a memory for life.

This shoot was already good. Then Chiara got wet.

The rest of the Cala Bassa shoot is finally live ❤️‍🔥

This was one of those Ibiza afternoons that just kept changing shape.

It started with Celina in the Brazil bikini, but after that the whole shoot turned into something else.

Chiara finally found us after walking around the rocks with no signal.

Then the two of them posed together in front of that rough Cala Bassa stone.

Then Celina somehow made a white shirt, tie and glasses look work in the middle of Ibiza.

Then Chiara gave us the soft white bikini set against the rocks.

And then she got into the water “just to cool off a bit.”

Sure, Chiara.

Very innocent.

Very casual.

Definitely not one of the sexiest endings of the whole Ibiza trip.

The full gallery + full story is now live on Patreon:

www.patreon.com/posts/164426319

Also, I activated 60% off yearly subscriptions until the end of July.

Any tier. Pay annually. 60% off.

Somewhere between “sunset photoshoot” and “well… the bikini top is definitely gone now.”

Early morning in Tenerife, 16 September 2024.

We’d already been shooting for a while, moving between spots and chasing the light. Nothing unusual, just working through ideas.

Then she climbed out of the water like this.

No direction. No reset. No “do that again.”

It was one of those moments where you realize you don’t need to add anything. You just frame it and try not to mess it up.

More from my shoots via thatarnold.com

That’s what people say when they see the photos.

The beach. The sun. The lifestyle. Shooting with beautiful girls in bikinis… or without bikinis.

And I get it. From the outside, it really does look like luck.

But what you don’t see is everything that came before that. The decisions, the risks, the hundreds of messages that got ignored. The moments where nothing was happening yet… but I kept going anyway.

And slowly, things started changing.

Not because I got lucky. Because I didn’t stop.

Wrote a short piece about that phase 👇

thatarnold.com/heatwave/you-are-so-lucky

Hot summer day. Playa Sidi Saler, Valencia.

The kind of heat that doesn’t just sit on your skin… it stays there.

No wind. No shade. Just sun, salt, and that slow feeling of everything melting into the moment.

We found a beach shower and stopped for a second. Nothing planned. Just cooling off.

Then Silvia stepped under the water.

Close up. Droplets everywhere. Sunlight catching everything just right.

And yeah… I remember exactly what I was thinking in that moment.

Some shots don’t need much.

P.S. If you like this kind of story, I write more on the HEATWAVE DIARIES.

This wasn’t supposed to be a photo.

It was just one of those in-between moments… sunscreen, sand everywhere, the sea right there, nothing planned.

And somehow those always end up being the ones that stick.

Arnold ✌🏼

P.S. If you’re into the stories behind these moments… I write them all out in my Heatwave Diaries. It’s basically where everything gets unpacked a bit more.

This started as a simple sunrise shoot… and then something shifted.

At some point there were flying bikini tops… and I wasn’t entirely sure if I was still working or just reacting.

One of those moments where you either stop it… or let it happen.

Still don’t know if I made the “right” call.

Throwback to a morning where everything shifted.

No plan. No control. Just a moment that kind of took over.

Still not sure if I handled it like a photographer… or just someone who didn’t want to miss what was happening.

Wrote a bit more about that morning here:

This wasn’t even supposed to be a shoot.

Raquel had texted me earlier that day to see if I wanted to hang out, play some beach tennis… just a normal summer afternoon in Ibiza.

We spent the whole day out there, and towards sunset, when the light started getting soft, we looked at each other like… yeah, let’s take a few photos as well.

She was still wearing the same bikini she’d had on all day. Probably the smallest one I’ve ever seen.

And yeah… this is what came out of that moment.

27 August 2022. Ibiza.

There’s a moment right before you look away.

📁 From the archives. 21 July 2023. Mar.

This is what that day felt like.

📁 From the archives. 13 April 2024. Rosangelina.

It wasn’t because she took her bikini top off.

That’s what I thought at first.

But it started way earlier.

In the way she got into the car.

In how easy it felt within minutes.

In how she looked at me like we’d known each other for years… even though we had just met.

There’s a moment where something shifts.

Not loud. Not obvious.

Just… real.

And you don’t notice it at the time.

You only see it later, in the photos.

That’s what I understand now.

Sensuality doesn’t start when clothes come off.

It starts in the energy.

In the comfort.

In how someone exists when they’re not trying.

And when it’s that natural…

it’s very easy to fall for it.

Cala Bassa, Ibiza.

Carole and I realised pretty quickly that speaking our native Flemish together changed the whole vibe. Same humour, same rhythm, no translating needed. Everything felt lighter. Easier.

Then she walked straight into the sea wearing that shirt.

A shirt that clearly never stood a chance once water got involved.

I didn’t ask why. I didn’t stop her either. Some moments don’t need logic. They just need a camera and a bit of trust.

Salt on skin, sun on wet fabric, laughter in between shots. Afterwards we went for breakfast like this was the most normal thing in the world, agreeing that somehow it made more sense in the water than it ever would have on land.

Some photos tell you exactly what happened.

Others just leave you with questions.

And honestly, that’s usually my favourite part.

This is Sara, somewhere on the boardwalk in Mareny Blau, holding a bag of chips that’s almost bigger than her future and wearing a That Arnold crop top that was… ambitious.

No styling team.

No planning.

Just a beach cooler on one shoulder, questionable snack choices, and that look that says she’s either about to cause trouble or already has.

For the record: the top does fit.

Just… conceptually.

Yes, it’s my merch.

Yes, it exists in the real world.

And yes, moments like this are exactly why I started HEATWAVE Diaries in the first place.

The stories behind the photos. The chaos. The in-between moments that weren’t supposed to happen but absolutely did.

Not apologizing to the laws of physics.

They started it.

Hot September afternoon just outside Valencia.

Rocío drove about forty minutes to meet a stranger with a camera and climb around some rocks by the sea.

Totally normal behavior. Obviously.

She was a bit nervous at first.

Not much experience posing. Very aware of the camera.

And honestly… I love that it shows.

That serious, slightly distant look wasn’t a pose. It was her settling into the moment. Calm. Focused. A little guarded.

Which somehow made it way hotter.

The swimsuit isn’t doing anything crazy.

No tricks. No drama.

It just fits her. Spanish sun, warm skin, quiet waves, and that expression that says:

“I know you’re all about to have opinions.”

We shot. We talked. We took breaks. We let the heat pass and let the day do its thing.

Sometimes the best photos happen right before someone fully relaxes.

Go easy on her.

Or don’t. I think she expected it 😉

If you’re into the stories behind days like this, I write about them in the Heatwave Diaries.

Not selling. Just sharing the moments that linger a little longer than the photos.

We took a slow day trip to Montanejos.

One of those unreal places near Valencia where the water looks fake and everyone swears they’re just there for a quiet picnic.

Yami floated.

I photographed.

Inflatables finally fulfilled their destiny.

Somewhere between the floatie drifting past and the sun hitting just right, every dad became deeply invested in the water temperature, a few teenage boys suddenly forgot how volume works, and nobody remembered why they originally came.

She has that kind of energy.

Effortless.

Dangerous.

Completely unbothered.

We did eat the picnic.

We did take photos.

We did drive home exhausted and slightly sun-fried.

If you like this kind of chaos, I write about days like this in the Heatwave Diaries. No pressure. Just stories, photos, and the kind of summer moments that definitely weren’t supposed to happen.